


Between Horizons

by ofcorsetstrash



Series: Between [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Agender Character, Alien Biology, Alternate Universe, Crack and Angst, Dark Comedy, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Moral Ambiguity, Non-Linear Narrative, Panic Attacks, Skywalker Family Feels, Slavery, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-07-10 12:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 21,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6985045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofcorsetstrash/pseuds/ofcorsetstrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Qui-Gon Jinn was dangerously ignorant of the true nature of that which he found in the desert.</p><p>If you want whiny piss-baby Anakin Skywalker, this is not the fic for you. If, on the other hand, you are looking for snarktastic Anakin Skywalker who has been legally declared the galaxy's first literal humanoid disaster (for insurance billing purposes)... well, then, friend, pull up a chair and dive in.</p><p>Final real word-count: 30,829 (because ao3 doesn't count the notes)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Between Sunrises

**Author's Note:**

> Some of you may notice that my inspiration for this fic draws HEAVILY from the awesome sci-fi western Trigun. You don't need to know anything about Trigun to enjoy this story. In fact, you might enjoy it MORE if you don't know much...
> 
> Also, oops, Jar Jar doesn't exist.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What is said about men often has as much influence upon their lives, and especially upon their destinies, as what they do."
> 
> June 13th edit: I realized that I neglected to include Obi-Wan in this chapter, which I feel was a grave mistake on my part and the part of George Lucas. Please enjoy this adjustment.
> 
> September 3rd edit: adjusted the dialogue with Kylo and Hux bc i realized that their relationship wasn't where I thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hux could feel a migraine coming on. “Ren,” he said. “I am going to recite your… attempt at coming up with a plan. Perhaps hearing it from me will shock you into seeing how utterly and completely ridiculous it is.”
> 
> Kylo Ren grinned. Damn him. “Alright, Hux.”
> 
> Hux crossed his arms and lifted his chin. “Step one: take one of your fellow Knights of Ren prisoner, kidnap me, and steal a transport off of Starkiller base.”
> 
> Ren mirrored Hux’s actions, mimicking his pose. The commanding air it gave Ren suited him, and the Knight smirked when he picked up the thought from Hux. “All accomplished very smoothly, all things considered. And it’s ‘commandeer’. I ‘commandeered’ the ship, I didn’t ‘steal’ it.” He bit his lip. Hux’s greatest weakness.
> 
> “Step two,” Hux went on, ignoring Ren’s attempts to distract him. “Deliver your prisoner…” Hux shivered and glanced back at the heavy door. “He can’t get out, can he?”
> 
> Ren followed his gaze. “Probably not.”
> 
> “Your ability to inspire confidence is overwhelming.”
> 
> “Thank you.”
> 
> “You want to deliver this incredibly dangerous, volatile, and powerful prisoner to the General of the Resistance, who just happens to be your mother, which would have been nice to know sooner, at her base on D’Qar as some kind of… good faith token or something.”
> 
> Ren nodded. “There’s a pretty good chance we won’t be shot on sight.”
> 
> “That’s… great, Ren. And then the final phase is to, and I’m quoting you directly on this, ‘Find Snoke and kick his ass so hard he’ll shit his teeth.’ Thank you for the colorful description, by the way. I’ve added it to my list.”
> 
> Ren nodded, that idiotic grin still on his face. “That’s right.”
> 
> Hux just stared for a minute. “There are specialists for this kind of thing, you know.”
> 
> Kylo Ren tilted his head. “Like special operations teams? I don’t think they could handle Snoke and the rest of the Knights.”
> 
> “I was thinking more along the lines of a therapist, Ren.”

Shmi had always been very, very careful.

 

Tatooine was perfect for what they needed. There was very little law on this desert planet, few people who would ask very many questions, and fewer who would concern themselves with a downtrodden slave and her child.

 

She should have been even more careful, but when danger came, it was not in a form that she expected. It was not Anakin’s fault that he was not immediately suspicious of the tall man and his companions.

 

“Mom! Mom! I’m home!”

 

Shmi couldn’t help but smile at Anakin’s dramatics. She wiped her hands on a rag and stepped out to where she could see the newcomers and look surprised for their benefit.

 

“Oh, my! Ani, what is this?” _Who are they? And why did you bring them here?_

 

“These are my new friends!” Anakin waved grandly to the small group who could barely fit into the room. “And there’s a storm outside. I couldn’t let them stay out in that!”

 

Smile. Be friendly, but not too friendly. Be invisible. “Did your friends tell you their names?”

 

Anakin opened his mouth to answer, and then snapped his teeth back together. He’d obviously picked their names out of their minds and forgot to ask for such things until Shmi had reminded him. He looked appropriately embarrassed. Good.

 

The tall, roughly-dressed man stepped forward with courtly manners that were at strange odds with his appearance. “My name is Qui-Gon Jinn. The young man is Obi-Wan Kenobi, and this young lady is Padmé Naberrie.”

 

The short droid with them whistled in protest. “And this is Artoo-Detoo,” said the girl with a smile.

 

“Your son was kind enough to offer us shelter. We are most grateful,” said Jinn, sweeping a short bow worthy of a nobleman of Coruscant.

 

Anakin grabbed at Padmé’s hand. “Wanna see my project? Come on! You too, Obi-Wan!” He dragged the two of them back to the door of his bedroom, the droid trailing after them, leaving Shmi and Jinn. She tried not to show anything on her face, but this had gotten out of hand. Anakin, bless his strange little soul, hadn’t noticed the power of the Force around Jinn. He’d unknowingly brought a Jedi home with him. Shmi knew that she herself was well-hidden, but she’d picked a planet far from the Core Worlds precisely to avoid the Jedi and their… sensitivities. Judging by what she could sense from Jinn, there was little chance he hadn’t noticed Ani.

 

Jinn took a step closer to her, digging through his pockets for something. “I have… enough food for a meal, somewhere in here. We won’t be any burden to you. May I ask your name?”

 

Shmi made herself smile. Her grateful slave smile. “Oh, thank you, sir. My name is Shmi. I’m sorry if I was abrupt. I don’t think I will ever get used to Anakin’s surprises.”

 

Jinn nodded. “He’s a very special boy.”

 

Shmi felt her expression sharpen, her eyes gleam, but Jinn was looking away, now, back towards where Anakin was showing the girl and young man his droid he was rebuilding. How much did this Jedi know?

 

“Yes,” Shmi said slowly. “I know.”

 

“How old is he?”

 

No one had ever bothered asking before. _Ani?_

 

_Yes?_

 

_What is a normal age for a human child of your size?_

 

_I… I have no idea! No one’s ever asked, before!_

 

“He’s… several,” she said with a small cringe. “At least… several standard years. It’s, ah, difficult to keep track, for slaves like us.” She made sure to put on her sad slave face.

 

“I believe your son is special, that he has a gift.”

 

Shmi fought down the rising panic. All this time and they were found out by this, this _Jedi_ who still seemed to be blissfully unaware of the true nature of his discovery.

 

“Who was his father?”

 

Shmi nearly laughed. The man was woefully uninformed. Was it just him? Or were all of the Jedi just as ignorant? How much had been forgotten, or was lost? She decided to give him a sliver of the truth.

 

“There was no father.”

 

Jinn only blinked, looking slightly confused. Humans, after all, were not exactly well-known for their asexual reproduction. And still, the Jedi did not see what was right in front of him, hiding in plain sight. Shmi supposed it would have been impossible to hide forever, that nothing was ever unchanging, but she had hoped that she would be able to keep Anakin to herself for a little while longer.

 

Much to her chagrin, Shmi’s hold on calm only continued to spiral out of control.

 

“He tested your blood?”

 

Anakin nodded. “Without asking. He said he was cleaning the cut and checking for infection, but he was lying. And he didn’t ask before he took my blood.”

 

Shmi closed her eyes and felt for the light of the Force around her. It was always a comfort, and helped immensely in calming her rage. “Foolish human,” she whispered.

 

“I thought it was pretty rude.”

 

Shmi looked at her child. “You are right, Ani. And a little bit suicidal, if we were not trying so hard to remain unnoticed. No one _ever_ has a right to any part of your body without your permission.”

 

“But we’re slaves. Slaves don’t own their own bodies.”

 

Anakin’s blue eyes burned up at her. Shmi examined him and carefully considered her words. She wondered what humans saw when they looked at him. She assumed they saw nothing noteworthy about him, since the two of them were able to hide in plain sight. He didn’t look human at all, in her eyes. He was made of pure white fire.

 

“Anakin,” she said quietly. “I have been… doing my best with a situation I admit I didn’t plan for very well. I wanted you to grow up around other sentient beings, to realize their… intelligence and worth, even though they are different from us. But I couldn’t bear to expose you to too much danger, the danger of learning and growing around too many. It would be too easy to lose your mind in theirs if you grew up that way. You would have had no sense of self.”

 

“I know all of this.”

 

“I know you do. But I need you to see where I am coming from, with this.” She sat down on the bed and he sat as well, both folding their legs to sit cross-legged facing each other. A familiar position, one where Shmi had taught Anakin much. “You and I are slaves in name only, because it lends us the protection of anonymity. Today was the first day a stranger ever looked twice at you, yes?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Slavery is… wrong, Anakin. No life-form should ever seek that kind of ownership over another. It is a perversion of the sanctity of life, and by extension the Force and reality itself.”

 

His gaze dropped to the bedcovers, and she heard the whisper of uncertainty and shame in his soul. “Ani,” she whispered. “Do you want to tell me what is bothering you? It isn’t really the Jedi, is it. That’s just bothering _me_.”

 

Rather than speak aloud, Anakin showed her through the Force, the action coming far more naturally to him than verbal communication. He showed her a scene from just over a week earlier. There had been a small slave auction that Ani had spotted from a distance. Curious, and spurred forward by his recent readings about economics and trade, he snuck as close as he could to see what he could learn.

 

He hadn’t really meant to read the soul of the girl up for auction. But he had, and what had been there had shaken him badly, badly enough that he hid it rather successfully from his mother.

 

“She didn’t want to be in her own body anymore,” Anakin whispered. “She hurt so much in her heart that she didn’t care what happened to her _self_ anymore. She just wanted her life to be over.”

 

Shmi held her arms out, and Ani crawled onto her lap so she could hold him close and feel their hearts beating next to each other. Ani’s pain and the slave girl’s pain curled around her heart. It joined all the other pain that she carried.

 

“Maybe,” Ani said quietly. “If I go with the Jedi man, I can travel all across the galaxy and free all the slaves.”

 

Shmi let a deep sigh out of her lungs. “It wouldn’t be easy,” she said. “And it would take a long time. But if anyone could do it, it would be you, walking-sky-child.”

 

The sister-name made Anakin giggle. It was a little funny to hear spoken in basic as opposed to feeling it.

 

“Ani,” Shmi whispered into his hair.

 

“Yes?” He said, twisting his head to look into her eyes.

 

“Are you really alright with this?” _Do you really feel ready to go?_

 

He pursed his lips and nudged at her soul with his. There was a little bit of fear, yes, but it was laced through with excitement, anticipation, the eagerness to see beyond the horizon, to fly between stars.

 

Shmi laughed and hugged him tighter. She had seen so much, so many worlds beyond imagining, and she had shared those memories with Anakin, but he wanted to create his own memories.

 

“You’ll have to be careful,” she said quietly, but still smiling. “It seems like the Jedi have forgotten a lot of things. There could be danger in reminding them.”

 

“I won’t let anyone find out,” Anakin rolled his eyes. He’d gotten a lot better at human mannerisms, though she still caught him saying things like “Yipee” in a voice not quite dull enough to be sarcastic.

 

Anakin laughed at the image in her mind. “I’ll have to keep practicing.”

 

“Maybe they’ll just think you’re a little defective,” Shmi teased. “They’ll put you with the babies where you belong.”

 

“Mo-om!” Anakin groaned in protest.

  
Shmi giggled, and held him closer. “It’s alright,” she whispered, and hummed a small lullaby from a world that didn’t exist anymore. “Forever and always, my baby you’ll be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kylo rolled his eyes. “Hux, if you can find a therapist who can figure out all my issues, they are probably superhuman and not to be trusted.”
> 
> “Like you?”
> 
> Kylo grinned again. “So you finally believe that I’m not human?”
> 
> Hux nodded distractedly. “Right. Of course. That whole thing that you tried to explain about your family. I got a little lost around the revelation about your mother and quite honestly the whole immortality thing sounds a little far-fetched.”
> 
> Kylo fidgeted with his gloves for a moment, looking over the control panel of the ship like it needed his attention. “So… are you going to help or not?”
> 
> Hux had already thought it through. That was one of the curses of having a highly efficient mind, he supposed.
> 
> “I have nothing better to do, I guess.”
> 
> Kylo raised an eyebrow. There was something in his eyes, a haunted thing that tugged at Hux. “Oh?” Kylo said softly. “Are you sure? Is there not some corner of the galaxy you want to go conquer or something?”
> 
> Ah. That old dragon raising its head again. Hux really hoped that someday Kylo would get over his fears of betrayal and abandonment. “Of course not,” he said, rolling his eyes. “How could I go anywhere without you? I am yours, Kylo.”
> 
> Kylo smiled. “You're not just keeping me around for my charms, are you?”
> 
> "What charms?"


	2. Between Raindrops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin had never seen rain before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rain was rare on Starkiller; usually any precipitation fell as snow. But while Hux and Kylo were out on a survey of dig site gamma, a few freezing drops began to fall.
> 
> The instant Kylo heard the pattering sound, he bolted away from everyone, through the trees, away from prying eyes so he could tear the helmet from his head. Tipping his face towards the sky, he felt the tiny cold fingertips of the storm catch on his lips, on his forehead, in his eyelashes.
> 
> Heavy breathing approached behind him, and on instinct, Kylo nearly hid himself away again. He could feel it was Hux, though. Hux. Hux who had seen Kylo's face, now. Had let Kylo kiss him, even. It was alright to let Hux see him again. No matter how much it still scared him.
> 
> “Damn, Ren,” Hux huffed when he saw the Knight simply standing there. “I really don't appreciate your proclivity towards spontaneous acts of insanity.”
> 
> “You thought I sensed danger?”
> 
> “Yes.” Hux pulled out his comm. “False alarm. All troops return to stations.” He scowled at Kylo’s grin. “What are you doing?”
> 
> Kylo tipped his head back again, closing his eyes. “Feeling the rain.”
> 
> “I guess if you wear a helmet all the time it’s a bit of a novelty.”
> 
> Kylo shivered and pretended it was from the chill rain. “I guess so.”
> 
> Hux stepped a bit closer, his breath fogging in the air between them. “This hardly counts as rain. On Arkanis, it rained nearly every day. I guess it never was interesting enough to me to warrant any kind of…” He gestured at Ren. “Whatever it is you are doing.”
> 
> Kylo pressed his body closer to the General. “Have you ever been kissed in the rain, Hux?”

It rained in the city of Theed two days after Qui-Gon’s funeral.

 

No one could keep Anakin from running out into the deluge, stripping off layers of clothing until only the minimum remained, undershirt and pants. He wanted to feel it, the rain on his skin. The water soaked into him, individual drops touching kisses on every exposed inch. He tipped his head back, closed his eyes to let it dip onto his eyelids, stuck his tongue out to taste it, fresh and clean. Shmi had shared rain with him, but having it caress his very own face felt like a blessing beyond his imaginings.

 

The best part, though, was when Padmé ran out to join him, giggling and barefoot, her hair dripping as it curled against her cheeks. She took his hands and spun him in circles til he was dizzy and laughing.

 

They splashed through puddles, kicking the water as high as they could, splashing it at each other in a quick mock battle. Padmé put her arms around him and taught him a few steps of a dance. They skipped about, flinging their hands up and their heads back.

 

She was the first human Anakin fell in love with.

 

They came back into the palace soaked, dripping, dizzy and giggling, their fingers still entwined, and servants brought them thick soft towels and dry clothes. In front of a cheerful fire, they curled around each other, still breathlessly happy.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Anakin saw a shadow move in a doorway. He tensed for an instant, but Padmé gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

 

“It’s Obi-Wan,” she said softly. “He was keeping an eye on us outside, too.” She lowered her voice even more. “I hope he’s alright.”

 

“He lost his teacher,” Anakin whispered. He'd been picking up the edges of the Jedi’s pain. “The first Sith seen in millennia, and they killed Qui-Gon, and then Obi-Wan killed them. He’s scared of what's going to happen, but trying not to be. He wants to honor his teacher and have me as his apprentice, but he’s not sure if he’s ready. He doesn't know if he has what it takes…”

 

Anakin realized how sad Padmé was starting to feel on Obi-Wan’s behalf, so he smiled at her.

 

“On top of all that,” he grinned. “He hopes his facial hair comes in well. He’s self-conscious about his chin. He thinks it looks weird.”

 

Padmé’s smile went all crooked and conspiratorial. “Well, then, we’ll just have to persuade him that his chin is good-looking, won't we?”

 

“Obi-Wan!” Anakin yelled at the top of his lungs. “Padmé thinks your chi-”

 

The young queen clapped a hand over Anakin’s mouth, and Obi-Wan ran into the room to find them wrestling and laughing on the floor, both trying to tell him something and both doing their best to stop the other with tickling and even licking each other's hands when they tried to physically block the words.

  
It was a relief to hear Obi-Wan laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “We should reach the weapon in time to-” Tarkin stopped. Darth Vader stood several yards back, where he’d halted in his tracks on the landing platform. The Coruscant skies had opened, rain drenching the durasteel surface. Most people were scurrying for cover, but Vader simply stood, one hand held out in front of him, empty eyes aimed down at his gloved hand, as if hypnotized by the sight of water streaking over the leather.
> 
> “My Lord Vader?”
> 
> Tarkin watched as Vader seemed to come back to himself. He’d been a little bit… different since the Death Star had fallen. Perhaps this was simply another symptom of how that loss was affecting him.
> 
> “My apologies, Grand Moff. Please continue.”


	3. Between Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long time ago, in a place far away, there lived two souls who wore each other's names over their hearts.
> 
> Gentle reminder: due to the fact that people are reading this in different ways, some plot twists happen in different places. Please don't spoil things in your comments. Just come yell at me on tumblr. My URL is ofcorsetstrash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Walking Star Child."
> 
> Luke held back a shudder. It sounded… wrong… hearing the name the sisters had given him in Darth Vader’s voice.
> 
> “Do you understand? Names are not to be taken lightly, no matter how many you have.”
> 
> Luke huffed a sound that might have been a laugh, had he been in the company of anyone else. “I suppose your next line is ‘I have many names’.”
> 
> “As do you.”
> 
> “Hardly, Father.”
> 
> Again, the Knight went quiet for a moment, as if wrapped deep in his own thoughts. “At birth you were given a name: Luke Amidala. At a young age your mother called you Lulu, until you were four and you asked her to stop, because you were far too grown-up for such a silly name. Queen Organa named you heir of Alderaan, and to some people you became Prince Amidala-Organa.”
> 
> Luke flinched away from the mention of his home, gone forever in the fire of the Death Star, but Vader continued. “You were elected to the position of Senator, which your mother was unspeakably proud of, and thus on Coruscant you are known as Senator Amidala of Alderaan Lost. Several of the young ladies in the Senate have given you a nickname; they call you “Sunshine” when you can’t hear them. There are a handful of Senators who know your mother’s family very well, and to them you are Young Naberrie. To most droids you are Master Luke, but sometimes Artoo-Detoo slips up and calls you Master Skywalker. Among the sisters your name is Walking Star Child. To me, until such a day as you ask me to speak otherwise, you are simply Luke, my son.”

Anakin did a double take when he saw the small black letters. “What’s that on Master Windu’s wrist?”

 

Obi-Wan glanced up from where the two of them were meditating in the Temple Gardens. “Anakin, meditation is traditionally done  _ without _ staring at people walking by.”

 

“Sorry. So what is it?”

 

Obi-Wan sighed. “It’s his soul mark.”

 

“Soul… oh yeah! My mother told me about those!” Anakin grinned. “About one in ten sentients is born with a name on their skin somewhere. It’s supposed to be the name of their other soul! The soul that is a part of themselves, just in a different body.”

 

“That is what many believe, yes.”

 

“I have one, too! Mother thinks it’s pretty neat. Do you have one?”

 

Obi-Wan twitched a little bit, but he seemed to realize that Anakin wasn’t going to settle down to meditate until they had talked over the subject. He took a calming breath and clasped his hands in his lap. “Yes, Anakin. I do.”

 

“Where is it? What does it say?”

 

Obi-Wan quirked an eyebrow at him. “You know, in some cultures it’s incredibly rude to ask. Those names are held very sacred.”

 

Anakin blushed. “Oh. Sorry.”

 

The Jedi grinned. “Not to me, though. It’s behind my right ear. I have to look in a mirror to see it.”

 

“What’s your other soul’s name?”

 

“May.”

 

“May,” Anakin repeated. “That’s very pretty. Do you think you’ll ever find them?”

 

“No.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“The Jedi do not seek out such attachments, Anakin. Attachment leads to the fear of loss. If a Jedi found their other soul, that would be very dangerous for both of them. Besides fear leading to the Dark Side, there is also the possibility that an enemy could use that connection to control the Jedi. A person will do anything to protect their other soul from harm. That could be disastrous for the galaxy, should that be turned against the Jedi. And,” he shrugged. “It’s difficult to find your other soul. The galaxy is massive, and the name you wear is not always the name they go by. Most never find their other soul, but lead happy lives anyway.”

 

“What do you mean?” Anakin said. “The name you wear is not always the name they go by?”

 

“Names are strange things, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said with a smile. “They are like… like clothes.”

 

Anakin scrunched up his nose. “Like clothes?”

 

“Yes,” continued his teacher. “We wear the name appropriate for us at the time. Sometimes we choose new names for ourselves, and that can be empowering, like choosing what to wear.”

 

“Like Padmé’s fancy dresses,” Anakin grinned, seeing the accuracy of the metaphor. “But sometimes she dresses as a handmaiden to protect herself. She uses a different name, too.”

 

“Exactly like that,” smiled Obi-Wan. “Sometimes others give us names, either to show affection, like a very special gift, or to gain control over someone’s identity. That’s why names can be powerful; they help show people who we are. Deep down, however, we remain the same. It is how others perceive us that changes. For many, perception is reality. As a Jedi, you must learn how to see through perception to the truth.”

 

Anakin should have known that somehow Obi-Wan would turn a simple question into a lesson. He really was a good teacher.

 

“So,” Anakin mused. “If the Force is what puts someone’s name on us, someone for us to find, why doesn’t it choose a name that will make it easy for us to find them?”

 

Obi-Wan crossed his arms and tilted his head slightly to one side. “No one knows for sure, Anakin. But I can tell you what I believe. I think that the Force is incredibly powerful, beyond comprehension, and it determines our destinies… to some extent. However, I think that the Force leaves many things for us to decide on our own. It can give us paths to follow, but ultimately which path we take is our own choice. There may be another half of your soul out there in the galaxy somewhere, but the choice to find them or not is on your shoulders.”

 

Anakin furrowed his brow. “It just seems more complicated than it should be.”

 

“Life often is, Anakin.”

 

Anakin grinned up at his teacher. “Do you want to know what my mark says? It’s a really cool name.”

 

Obi-Wan’s smile grew soft and fond. “Certainly, Anakin. You can tell me anything, remember?”

 

Anakin sat up straighter. “The name of my other soul is Revan.”

 

Obi-Wan blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

 

“Revan.”

  
Obi-Wan stared at him for a moment before letting out a breath he must have been holding. “Huh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hux poured over the reports, tapping idly at his datapad. He needed to reallocate funds to help replace the equipment destroyed in Ren’s latest meltdown. Inconvenient, to say the least. He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. Ren was uncontrollable, his mood volatile and unpredictable. Sometimes a setback would be met with flippant indifference, other times Ren would respond with a destructive rage that one could only flee from and hope would soon pass. Hux hadn’t yet figured out the pattern, and he was starting to worry that there was no pattern at all, that Ren was simply chaos incarnate. A roll of the dice, a toss of a coin, a string of randomly generated numbers.
> 
> In the quiet of his own quarters, Hux let himself sigh. Again, his thoughts had turned to Ren. It was starting to get rather annoying, this fixation his mind seemed to have on the Knight.
> 
> He blamed the soulmark. He blamed himself for memorizing the name before it had been burned from his skin. He wished he didn’t know it, that his father had thought to have the mark removed before Hux was old enough to read it.
> 
> Very short, very simple.
> 
> Ky.
> 
> It was more than likely that the name didn’t even refer to Kylo Ren. There were so many sentients in the galaxy, the odds of Hux and his other soul meeting at all were slim. It was possible that Ky was someone else, that they were on some distant planet right now, staring down at the name over their heart, wondering who it meant.
> 
> The general hoped their skin read “Hux”. The other options were hideous. He loathed his first name.
> 
> Hux glanced down at his datapad, and saw with great irritation that once again his fingers, left unsupervised, had spelled out ky ky ky ky ky ky over and over and over and over…


	4. Between Numbers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ^Redacted^
> 
> ^Restricted Access^
> 
> ^Classified^

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First Order Personnel File 
> 
> Designation: Knight of Ren, Kylo  
> Status: Active  
> Full Name: ^Redacted^  
> Date of Birth: ^Redacted^  
> Military Branch: Independent Contractor  
> Rank: Commander  
> Current Assignment: Resurgent-Class Star Destroyer _Finalizer_ Command  
>  Place of Birth: ^Redacted^  
> Race: ^Redacted^  
> Gender: ^Redacted^  
> Languages: Galactic Basic, Huttese, Mando’a, Aqualish, Bocce, Lasat, Shyriiwook, Rodian
> 
> Date of Enlistment: ^Redacted^  
> Battles and Campaigns: ^Redacted^  
> Decorations and Citations: ^Redacted^  
> Wounds Received in Action: ^Redacted^

 

 

 

Misae padded barefoot through the halls of the complex, rubbing at her eyes. She had been trying to sleep, but her heart kept waking her up. Every time she was about to fall asleep, her pulse had sped up, racing with… something. Still very tired, she considered the possibilities. Physical arousal was often caused by a release of hormones and enzymes through the body in response to a physical stimulus and often interpreted by the brain into any number of possible emotions. She hadn’t been able to pinpoint an emotion she was experiencing, however.

 

That observation in itself, however, did evoke the emotions of confusion and fear in very small amounts.

 

She peered around the corner into the observation room. “Pilu?” she said. “I can’t get to sleep…”

 

But the night shift guard was absent, away from his post. Misae frowned, and glanced at the console display he usually sat at, idly flicking through different image feeds to keep track of the goings-on of the research complex. He often told Misae about how important his job was, and how the Jedi Masters trusted only him with this very important job. He was obviously joking in that way he had. What had he called it? Exaggeration for comedic effect?

 

It was unusual for him to be away from his terminal, but Misae figured he would be back shortly, and she could ask him to tell her another bedtime story. Until then, it was very simple to access his console for herself and play the simple puzzle games he had on it. She’d figured out his security override code last week. Practically a lifetime ago. She grinned at her own exaggeration for comedic effect.

 

The puzzle games didn’t keep her interest for long, however. They were pattern-based and quite easy once you memorized those patterns. So she entered the code to access the files shared by all the researchers in the facility and began browsing, her quick mind absorbing every detail.

 

Nothing much stood out to her at first. There were many different projects being handled at the complex, and most of them seemed rather boring. She skimmed over the pages on particle force physics and midichlorians, and ignored the entries on kyber containment fields (she’d already read those ones).

 

It had been ten whole minutes, and Pilu still hadn’t returned from wherever he was. Probably relieving himself in the ‘fresher. Misae had tried to tell him that the oily food he was eating was not conducive to twi’lek digestive health, but he had laughed and insisted that the taste was worth it.

 

So, it was really his fault if he got in trouble. With a grin, Misae tapped open the files labeled “Restricted Access: Code V”.

 

They were locked, of course, but three days ago Misae had overheard Master Neeith telling Thastle the new password. With an innocent grin, she entered the string of randomly generated numbers and letters she remembered.

 

**Viem Gen Documentation**

Core 1

Core 2

Core Anomaly 1

Core Anomaly 2

Core Anomaly 3

Core Anomaly 4

 

Misae pursed her lips, her eyes alight with curiosity. This all looked very interesting, but most interesting was “core anomaly”.

 

Core Anomaly 4

Date of “Birth”: 45:02:32479 YTA

Nickname: Misae

 

She giggled. She’d found the files they were keeping on her! Delighted, she opened the page with the latest date on it.

 

Midichlorian Extraction by Electrophoresis Test #56

Materials:  
Restriction Enzymes - EcoR1  
Restriction buffer  
0.8% TBE  
Ethidium bromide  
Electrophoresis crystal  
37º water bath

 

Misae skimmed over the test from the day before. It had been a rather nice test, actually. The water had been very comfortable and soothing, and Master Neeith had given her a small sweetcake after.

 

All the other tests were ones that she remembered, as well. None of them had been particularly interesting, and it looked like the Jedi hadn’t really gained anything from them either, if the notes at the end of each test were anything to go by.

 

Wondering when Pilu was going to return, Misae went back and opened the file labeled Core Anomaly 1.

 

It was like a digital graveyard of deleted files, words blanked out and very long numbers that Misae couldn’t parse the meaning of without context. Down at the very bottom, however, there was a small holo file titled “Izel”.

 

With no thought for what the consequences of her actions would be, Misae opened the holo.

 

Blood. There was blood everywhere on the table, on the floor, leaking from a small body and soaking the gloved hands of Master Neeith.

 

_ “Time of death: ten hundred hours and twenty-six minutes,” the old Jedi was saying, his face pale and lined with fatigue. “The Viem anomaly, the only one of them ever to gain consciousness, has died.” He lowered his head, as if in mourning or deep thought. “Observation,” he continued after a moment. “The anomaly seemed to possess extraordinary healing abilities. Every cut made with the scalpel was healed over within minutes, making the vivisection far more difficult than planned. Its hair, however, began to turn from gold to black as it drew on its connection to the Force for healing. Once its hair was completely black, cell regeneration stopped, and the anomaly finally died.” He shook his head. “We rushed into this test, and have perhaps wasted our one chance at understanding how the Viem are capable of their abilities, generators of more Force than any life-form known in the galaxy-” _

 

Shmi pulled herself out of her dream far later than she would have liked. It had been a very long time since that nightmare had plagued her. She shivered, and huddled further under her blankets. Seeking reassurance, she reached out to the sisters. What she really wanted was to contact Anakin directly, but he may have been with the Jedi Council, and they would notice her. As it was, the sisters were quiet enough that they could keep a passive eye on Ani for her. If anything were ever to happen to him, they would let her know.

 

An image rose in her mind, a view of Anakin swinging a wooden practice sword in swift motions, his young brow creased in focus and concentration. He was having fun, and looking forward to dinner.

 

Shmi smiled to herself in the dark. The thought of Ani surrounded by Jedi still terrified her, but he was doing well at blending in.

 

And if any harm were to come upon him at the hands of a Jedi…

  
Shmi’s smile grew sharp, and she remembered the copper taste of blood.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ^Classified^  
> Galactic Center for Military Research - Western Division  
> GCMR  
> Test Subject 12
> 
> Civilian Name:^Access Denied^  
> Date of Birth: 29.05.0013 ABY  
> Species: Human  
> Sex: Male  
> Height: 1.85 m  
> Weight: 61.5 kilograms  
> Significant Genetic Markers: MRV-51A, HEM-87B, C43H  
> Intelligence Percentiles (General population comparison):  
> Ry/Ha: 98  
> Vi/Sp: 99  
> Ve/Li: 88  
> Lo/Ma: 99  
> Kyn: 78  
> Inter: 87  
> Intra: 31
> 
>  
> 
> Testing Sequence: #3501FL  
> Serum Variant: AB003 “Ark”  
> Serum Dosage: 21ppm/an
> 
> Notes:  
> Subject’s metabolism continues to increase. Subject is not yet thirteen years old, but already appears to have aged past adolescence into adulthood.
> 
> Administered IV supplementation, but subject removed IV. Administered feeding tube for four meals until subject agreed to IV supplements in addition to regular feeding. If subject continues to metabolize at such an enhanced rate, additional steps may be required to maintain physical health and muscle mass. Continue observation of mental performance. New testing procedures may be required to accurately asses subject memory and mental acuity.
> 
> Continue to monitor for homicidal/suicidal tendencies. Subject is more than capable of deception.
> 
> Most recent update: 02.10.0026 ABY


	5. Between Sparks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After ten years of Jedi training, Anakin is sometimes able to behave properly in public.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “So… Kylo?”
> 
> “It’s a good enough name for me to use for now.”
> 
> The two of them sat in comfortable silence a few minutes more. Luke supposed the name suited him. He was right. Any other name he may have once gone by no longer seemed to fit this strange, dark-haired man. Like clothes that had been outgrown.
> 
> The fire crackled, the heat from it drying Luke’s face. The sounds of distant celebration carried through the forest.
> 
> “What will you do now?”
> 
> Luke shrugged. “Probably return to the Senate. They’ll need help rebuilding, after all this. What about you?”
> 
> Emotions flickered across Kylo’s incredibly expressive face. “I… I don’t know. I…” The tall man hesitated. “I’ve never really… been on my own before. There’s always been… someone telling me what to do…”
> 
> Luke stared as Kylo wrapped his arms around himself in a gesture that made him look terrifyingly vulnerable and child-like. With a small shock, Luke realized how very much a child he still was. How inexperienced he was, in ways that never would have occurred to Luke. How young he looked, and frightened of being alone.
> 
> Luke shifted his weight enough that their shoulders brushed against each other. “You could come home with us, if you want.”
> 
> Kylo stared at Luke. “Home?” The single word, with that fragile question in it, nearly broke Luke’s heart.

“You seem a little on edge.”

 

“Not at all.”

 

“I haven’t seen you this tense since we fell into that nest of gandarks.”

 

Anakin smirked. “If I recall correctly,  _ you _ fell into that nightmare and  _ I _ rescued you.”

 

Obi-Wan quirked an eyebrow. “Oh. Yes.” He turned away with a smirk and a low chuckle. “You’re sweating. Relax. Take a deep breath.”

 

Anakin fidgeted with his sleeves. “I just… I haven’t seen her in ten years, Ben.”

 

“You’ll be fine. And while we’re here, remember-”

 

“Oh! Right… sorry.” Anakin bit his lip. “I’ll remember to address you properly in front of the other Jedi...Master.” He tried not to grimace at the sound of the title in his own voice.

 

Obi-Wan extended a small mental apology. Anakin sighed and then smiled. “It’s fine,” he said. “I can do it while we're here.”

 

Anakin tried. He really did. But he had not exactly come to the Jedi as formless clay to be molded into their image. Over the years Obi-Wan and Anakin had both had to learn to pick their battles. Anakin had decided that he could try to be the best Jedi he could, following as many of their tenets as he could manage, striving for inner peace…

 

And after Anakin’s fifth panic attack about it, Obi-Wan had decided that Anakin calling him ‘Master’ all the time just wasn’t worth it.

 

_ “It’s alright, Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispered into blond hair as he held the child, trying to sooth and calm when he himself was so badly shaken. “You aren’t a slave. I don’t command you.” _

 

_ “I know…” Anakin sobbed, clutching at Obi-Wan’s robes. _

 

_ “Calling me ‘Master’ doesn’t mean I own you.” _

 

_ “I know!” Anakin screamed, his panic sharp and slicing at the air. “I know! I know! I know...” _

 

Definitely not worth it.

 

The elevator opened, and they stepped through into the Senator’s chambers. There were several other people, security and other statesmen, but Anakin could only see one person. Padmé. She was radiant, her eyes bright and full of life and a sharp intellect. She wore serenity like a mantle, but a playful mischief danced around her mouth.

 

“Master Kenobi,” she said with a warm smile. 

 

Obi-Wan took her hand and bowed low over it. “It’s a great pleasure to see you again, my Lady.”

 

Her smile trembled just a little. “It has been far too long, Master Kenobi. I’m so glad that our paths have crossed again.” Her eyes flickered over, and widened in recognition. “Ani?” She grinned. “Oh my! You’ve grown! How old are you, now?”

 

Anakin smiled his best charming smile. “Twenty-six.”

 

She laughed. “Nice try, but I distinctly remember you being younger than me.”

 

Anakin set a new goal to try to keep better track of things like age. “Well, you’ve grown as well, Senator. Grown more beautiful, I mean. Not taller. You’re shorter, now. Ah… no, actually, I’m just taller. You haven’t shrunk. I promise.”

 

Padmé laughed and shook her head as Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “Thank goodness I haven’t shrunk,” she said.

 

* * *

 

 

“Be mindful of your thoughts, Anakin.”

 

Anakin felt his face turn red. “Sorry.”

 

Obi-Wan sighed. “Just… try to be respectful of the Senator.”

 

“I will,” Anakin said sincerely.

 

Obi-Wan’s expression grew thoughtful. “I just worry about you, Anakin. You know that, right?” He ran his fingers through his reddish beard. “I suppose it’s too late to ask you not to fall in love with her.”

 

Anakin slumped out of his posture a little bit with a dramatic sigh. “Am I really that obvious?”

 

“Yes. You must be careful. I know how easily you get attached to people.”

 

“I don’t-”

 

“What was that last girl’s name? Maris? And you were truly in love with the girl before that, and that young man from Chandrila, and the three other girls before that…”

 

* * *

 

  
  


“I do not like this idea of hiding,” Padmé snapped.

 

“Don’t worry,” Anakin said. “Now that the Council has ordered an investigation, it won’t take Ben… I mean Master Obi-Wan, long to find this bounty hunter.”

 

Padmé smiled at him, but the expression was sharp, a baring of teeth more than a friendly emotion. “I haven’t fought against the ‘Military Creation Act’ for over a year to be absent on the date it is voted upon.”

 

Anakin shifted his weight uneasily. What would Obi-Wan say? “Sometimes… we have to let go of our pride and do what is requested of us.”

 

She gave him a scathing look. “Now you sound like Ben.”

 

“You call him Ben, too?”

 

Pink rose in her cheeks, and she pursed her lips. “You’ve grown up, Anakin.”

 

She was avoiding the question, but Anakin thought that maybe he could bring the conversation back around. “Master  _ Obi-Wan _ manages not to see it.”

 

Her eyes scanned over him, an intent behind her gaze that Anakin thought would send the Senate to its knees before her if she ever deigned to look at them in such a way. “There are many things, I think, that Master  _ Obi-Wan _ does not see.”

 

Anakin indulged in a very small pout. “He’s overly critical. He never listens. He doesn’t understand…”

  
Now it was Padmé’s turn to roll her eyes at him. “Well, he’s only human, Anakin. We all have our flaws.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Home. With me and Leia.”
> 
> Luke knew he’d said the wrong thing right away. Darkness filled those eyes. “Leia hates me.”
> 
> “No. She doesn’t-”
> 
> “I killed a man she loved, Luke. There’s no redemption from that. She’ll never forgive me.”
> 
> “Maybe she will.”
> 
> “I wouldn’t.”
> 
> Luke snorted. “Well, thank the Force that you and her are two different people. Even if sometimes you are so alike it’s a little creepy.”
> 
> That earned Luke a genuine smile from Kylo, even if it didn’t last very long. Luke held on to that smile.
> 
> The two of them faced the fire again, watching Darth Vader’s mask melt in the purifying flames.


	6. Between Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and Padmé travel to Naboo (with a small detour).
> 
> 12/8/16 Edit: slightly altered some dialogue in the beginning notes to fix a very small plot-hole that hopefully no one even noticed ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “The map we seek,” the Supreme Leader said slowly. “Is on board the _Millennium Falcon_.”
> 
> "Han Solo." Ren's voice was dark, dripping with a threat that made Hux shiver.
> 
> But before either of them could say anything else, the Supreme Leader continued. “You are not to kill him, Kylo.”
> 
> Hux nearly cracked a smile at the way Ren’s breath sputtered out of him in surprise. 
> 
> “Wha-What? But… Why? Supreme Leader, I-”
> 
> “Kylo, you will not kill Han Solo.”
> 
> “Like _hell_ I won’t!” Ren raged through his mask, his entire body shaking. “I will flay the flesh from his bones, use his tendons to tie his corpse to the front of my ship! I will drink his blood from his skull!”
> 
> “Kylo Ren, control yourself.”
> 
> There was a moment of no words, just heavy, gasping breathing as Ren wrestled with his emotions. Hux heard leather creak as Kylo Ren clenched his fists. “I understand, Supreme Leader.”
> 
> “The nature of the situation has changed. Your task of locating the map is complete. That is why I am sending Solum Ren to retrieve it.”
> 
> Kylo said nothing, made no response. So Hux nodded sharply and said, “Yes, Supreme Leader.”
> 
> Snoke noticed. “Kylo Ren.”
> 
> Ren shook himself out of the mood that gripped him. “Yes, Supreme Leader?”
> 
> Snoke stared at him for a moment. Hux wondered what Snoke was seeing, when he looked at Ren like that. “As Master of the Knights of Ren, Solum Ren is deserving of your utmost respect. He is to be… treated well.”
> 
> “Of course, Supreme Leader.”
> 
> “My sending him does not reflect poorly on your abilities.”
> 
> “Understood, Supreme Leader.”
> 
> “You are not to interfere with his mission.”
> 
> “I will treat his mission with the same gravitas as I do my own, Supreme Leader.”
> 
> Snoke stared at Ren. As though he knew as well as Hux did that Ren’s response was hardly agreeable. “Very well. I will contact you again soon.” And with that, Snoke’s image faded into nothing.
> 
> Ren took a very deep breath, and then held it so long that Hux worried that he would pass out. Eventually, though, Ren reached up and took his helmet off to smile at Hux, a violent light in his eyes. “Finally,” he breathed.

Anakin woke from his dream confused and restless. It had felt strangely like a Force vision, but the images he had seen were… very unlikely.

 

He settled into meditation and sent his mind out, searching across the stars.

 

_Mother?_

 

 _Yes, Anakin?_ It took her a little longer than usual to respond.

 

 _Sorry,_ he said. _Were you sleeping?_

 

_Yes, but that’s alright. I always love to hear from you._

 

_How are Cliegg and Owen?_

 

_Doing well… but you didn’t contact me to ask about them._

 

Anakin scrunched up his face. _I had a dream._

 

_Is that all?_

 

_Yeah. I thought I’d bend the laws of nature to tell you about it._

 

_Ani…_

 

_Sorry. It was a dream about you. About your death._

 

_… Anakin, someday I will, in fact, die._

 

_It wasn’t that you died that was strange. It was how. I dreamt that you were kidnapped and tortured to death by Tusken Raiders._

 

Shmi was silent for a moment. _That’s… very unlikely._

 

_I thought so, too. But it felt like it came from the Force._

 

Anakin felt Shmi’s mind pondering. _Did it feel like it came_ from _the Force… or_ through _the Force?_

 

_What do you mean?_

 

_It’s possible that a Force-user sent the dream to you._

 

That made Anakin sit back a little in shock. A Force-user? _Why? Who would do such a thing?_

 

_To manipulate you, most likely. Those in power do everything they can to maintain that power._

 

A chill shuddered through Anakin. _You think… it might be one of the Jedi?_

 

_I don’t know, Anakin. The Jedi have changed, but I cannot shake my fear that they will hurt you in some way._

 

_Maybe it was the Sith that the Council believes still lives._

 

_The Jedi and the Sith are more alike than they are different. At least… that has been my experience. You must keep your eyes and ears and heart open, Walking Sky Child. Ask the sisters for help, if you must. They miss hearing from you._

 

“Anakin?”

 

Anakin opened his eyes and smiled up at the Senator. “Oh, Padmé, I… didn’t hear you.”

 

She hesitated for a moment. “Sorry if I woke you. I just wanted to ask if you wanted anything to eat. We should reach Naboo soon.”

 

_She’s very pretty. I can see why you like her so much._

 

Anakin bit back his surprise as best he could. _Thank you, my dear mother. I’ll speak with you later?_

 

_I certainly hope so._

 

“Yes, actually,” Anakin managed. “I’m starving. I’d love something to eat.”

 

Padmé smiled and handed him the cup and bowl she was holding. “Sorry it isn’t much. I’d heard that comfort was scarce among the refugees…”

 

“But you didn’t think it would be like this?”

 

She smiled a little apologetically and sat next to him on the floor, her back to the wall so they could look out over the crowd together, their shoulders and hips pressed together. Anakin tried not to think about it as he ate. The food wasn’t terrible, though it relied a little heavily on salt for flavor.

 

“I look forward to seeing Naboo again,” Anakin said, hoping to strike up a conversation to keep Padmé from getting too depressed. “I’ve thought about it every day since I left. It’s by far the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.”

 

She giggled a little. “Such hyperbole. You were just a little boy back then. It might not be as you remember; time changes our perceptions.”

 

“Well…” Little boy? She was hardly more than a child herself, back then. Right? Or was he getting confused about ages again… “I think time has given me much more _mature_ perceptions about my feelings and… stuff.” He slurped the last of the soup from the bowl.

 

Padmé was giving him an amused look, but Anakin couldn’t figure out what he’d said that was funny. She gazed back over the crowd again. “It must be difficult, having sworn your life to the Jedi. Not visiting the places you like.”

 

“Or doing the things that I like,” Anakin added. “Or being with the people I love.”

 

Her eyes seemed to pierce through him. “Are you allowed to love? I thought such things were forbidden for Jedi.”

 

“Attachment is forbidden,” Anakin admitted. “Material possessions beyond what are necessary are forbidden. On the other hand… Compassion, which if you ask me is unconditional love, is central to the life of the Jedi. So,” he shrugged. “You might say that we are encouraged to love.”

 

Padmé hummed thoughtfully. “From what I have observed from… other Jedi, you view things a little differently.”

 

Anakin blushed a little bit. “Maybe I’m not the best at being a Jedi.”

 

She smiled at him, taking his breath away with the affection in her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “You, Anakin Skywalker, are the best, most earnest, sincere Jedi I have ever met.”

 

Honestly, he was a bit… taken aback. No one had ever said that to him before. “Thank you, Padmé.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

They sat in silence a few moments before she spoke again. “Were you dreaming, earlier?”

 

“What?”

 

“Before I went to get food, it seemed as though you were dreaming.”

 

“Oh. Yes. Yes, I was dreaming.”

 

“Of what?”

 

“Of my mother.”

 

“Oh… I remember her. She seemed very kind.”

 

“She is,” grinned Anakin. “She’s amazing! She’s the smartest person I know, and the strongest, and-”

 

Padmé was giggling. “You love her very much, don’t you.”

 

“Well, yeah, why wouldn’t I? She’s my mother.”

 

“You must miss her.”

 

“I do. It’s been so long since I’ve seen her. Her messages aren’t…” Anakin trailed off, realizing he’d let more slip than he’d meant to.

 

And Padmé had picked it up. She gave Anakin a sly smile. “Her messages? You're still in contact with her, aren’t you. Even though Jedi aren’t supposed to have, how did you put it? … _Attachments.”_

 

Anakin blushed to the roots of his hair. “Please don’t tell anyone. I’ll get in huge trouble.”

 

Padmé took his hand in hers and linked their pinky fingers together. “I promise,” she said, kissing his knuckles. Her touch was warm, inviting. Anakin licked his lips on reflex.

 

“Thanks.”

 

She sat back again, a speculative, scheming look on her face. “You know… we could go visit her. Naboo isn’t _that_ far from Tatooine.”

 

Anakin’s heart thudded heavily in his chest. “But… we’re supposed to go to Naboo and stay there until they find whoever’s trying to kill you. Ben said...”

 

“ _Ben said_ ,” she repeated, her voice twisty and strangely painful. “Your orders are to keep me safe, right? So if I go to Tatooine, then you’d have no choice but to follow me!”

 

“But, my Lady-”

 

“Anakin,” she cut him off. “The whole point of this trip was to go into hiding somewhere that assassins would have a hard time finding me. Where else is better to disappear than Tatooine? And this way, if anyone was spying on our plans to go to Naboo, they won’t be able to track us there.”

 

Anakin felt like his heart was in his throat, his own pulse trying to choke him. She was so close, pressed up against him, her eyes alight with mischief and life as she smiled at him. Her hand was on his knee, small but a point of contact that seemed to set him on fire.

 

He couldn’t have denied her _anything_ in that moment. She could have asked for her own galactic throne, and he would have delivered it to her on the blade of his saber.

 

“Well,” he said. “I have to admit that I’m not the best with planning things or with strategy. Maybe going somewhere unexpected really is the best plan.”

  
She pulled his face down to kiss his cheek. “Perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FN-2187 was a stormtrooper. He was just fine with that.
> 
> But, clearly, he thought, fate, or destiny or the Force or whatever had other plans in mind for him. Because not too long ago FN had also become a secret-keeper.
> 
> The stormtroopers had little secrets. From each other, from the commanders. Small things like times they helped each other when no one else was around, words and phrases that they gave new meanings all on their own. Wishes they whispered behind their anonymous faces in the shuttles. The Captains and officers and leaders had secrets, too. Some of them were bigger, scandalous, but not really all that dangerous in the long run.
> 
> FN-2187 had learned a very dangerous secret, however. 
> 
> FN-2187 had seen behind the dark mask that Kylo Ren wore, had seen his human face. And FN-2187 had learned, had spoken aloud the name that Kylo Ren had been called before he was ‘Kylo’. 
> 
> The ensuing meltdown (it was far too terrifying to be labelled as simply a ‘tantrum’) had caused a lot of damage, from what FN gathered, later. It had set back Starkiller’s construction by an entire month. And in that moment FN-2187 had seen behind the human mask that Kylo wore under the metal one; he saw the monstrous and alien creature that had caused poor TR-1152 to shoot himself, all those months ago.
> 
> On the one hand, holding on to a secret that powerful had unnerved FN for a while. It was a lot to handle.
> 
> On the other hand, it made all the trooper stories about the legendary Darth Vader a lot funnier.
> 
> And after that, training with Kylo Ren in the use of the Force was… rather unexpectedly enjoyable. Kylo, as he insisted on being called during their training sessions, was a surprisingly patient teacher, and good at figuring out how best to explain things in ways that FN could understand. After a while, FN even found himself using the lessons outside the training rooms with Kylo. He could focus better in simulations, and keep better track of his team without trying. His reflexes improved, and his aim. Kylo lead him through melee combat sessions with practice staves, though they both realized rather quickly that FN would never really be comfortable with such close-quarters fighting.
> 
> So it was that Finn, no longer a stormtrooper but still a secret-keeper, stood in the base of the Resistance, wearing a jacket from a new friend and smiling at a woman with dark hair and eyes that looked terribly familiar.
> 
> “General Skywalker,” he said respectfully. “I have a message for you, from your son.”


	7. Between Smiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin returns to Tatooine for the first time in ten years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “To good friends! And to friends who maybe aren't all that great, but will still kick Sith ass if you ask them nicely!”
> 
> Shmi laughed, her face warm as the whole bar joined in the cheer. “Force, Maz, you sure know how to sweet-talk a girl!” She tossed back the strong, clear drink and grimaced at the burn. “And he wasn't really much of a dead Sith Lord. He probably was just saying he was because 'Ghost of a Sith Apprentice’ sounds far less scary.”
> 
> "Still,” said Maz. "You've done us a great service, one I hope to repay someday.”
> 
> Shmi smiled down into her glass. "It's nice to feel appreciated for once.”
> 
> Maz, sharp-eyed as ever, adjusted her goggles and pursed her lips. "What's troubling you, child?”
> 
> Shmi rolled her eyes. "I'm at least three thousand years older than you, Maz.”
> 
> “And still a child.”
> 
> Shmi looked out over the celebrating patrons, a very small sigh escaping her. "I… guess I just feel lonely sometimes.”
> 
> The pirate queen gave her a wicked grin. "So you only came to Takodana and dispelled an evil spirit because I'm such good company?”
> 
> "Of course not,” snorted Shmi. "I'm also here because Bala-tak owes me fifteen thousand credits.” She winked across the room at the old smuggler, who winked back one of his four eyes.
> 
> Maz frowned, her wise face turning serious. “Shmi,” she said quietly. “What’s wrong?”
> 
> Shmi fiddled with her glass for a moment. “It’s nothing, really.” She slid the glass to the edge of the table and used a small tendril of Force to balance it there. “Just a minor existential crisis, I guess.”
> 
> “Would it help to talk?”
> 
> Shmi hesitated. “I just… I wish I knew why I was born.”
> 
> “Don't we all?”
> 
> Shmi frowned at Maz. “I understand that there are many philosophies that wonder that question, but for me… I tried asking the sisters. I asked them why they wanted me so much that they sent three before me to walk in the world, and they kept trying until I survived. But they haven't sent any more children to walk. I’m alone, but also never alone. I am myself, but I am also my sisters. I am their eyes and hands. I walk for them. I taste and touch and feel for them. They are always with me, but I am always by myself. I am the only one.”
> 
> “You say you asked them why you exist?”
> 
> “Yes. And I received as many answers as there are sisters. To seek, to move, to battle, to learn, to feel, to walk…”
> 
> Maz steepled her fingers on the table. “Did you ask them if they intended for you to be always alone?”
> 
> Shmi stared at the tiny woman for a moment. “What do you mean?”
> 
> Maz leaned back with a smile. “Well, maybe you don't have to be alone. Have you considered asking them to send another?”
> 
> “Another walking child?”
> 
> “Think about it. If one of your purposes is to learn… there is no better way to learn than to teach. And with two of you out harassing the galaxy, you would not be so alone, and you could learn and seek and walk and all those things… together...”

Anakin eased the clunky old speeder to a halt in front of the tiny farm. “Here we are!” he said, his voice bright with excitement.

 

“This is where your mother lives?” Padmé sounded uncertain as she let Anakin help her down from the borrowed speeder.

 

“And her new husband and my stepbrother,” Anakin said with a slightly nervous smile. “I… haven't actually met them in person, yet. But she's told me a lot about them.”

 

“Anakin! You’re here!”

 

Anakin turned away from Padmé, his eyes wide as he watched a young man with a cheerful face jog towards the two of them from the house.

 

“Owen?” Anakin said, a fluttering feeling taking over his heart. He grinned. “Is that really you? I thought mom said you were taller than me?”

 

Owen laughed, and swept Anakin up into a rough embrace, nearly squeezing the air out of him. “It's so good to finally meet you! Even if you are a total ass! And who is this?”

 

Anakin staggered a little, taking a moment to regain his balance. “Ah. This is, um, Padmé Naberrie. I’m kind of her bodyguard at the moment.”

 

Padmé held out her hand for a formal handshake, but with a broad smile Owen hugged her, as well. “It’s so great to meet both of you! And you’re just in time for dinner! Come in, come in…”

 

He ushered them out of the blistering suns and into the house, which Anakin noticed was kept immaculately clean, and to his mother’s standards.

 

“Anakin…”

 

Everything else faded into the background. Shmi was there, stepping around the small table, her black hair in that familiar loose bun and her eyes brimming with tears as she rushed to wrap her arms around his ribs. The two of them simply stood for a moment, feeling each other breathing.

 

“I missed you,” Anakin whispered.

 

“I missed you, too.” Shmi reached up to wipe the back of her hand over her eyes. “You got so tall.”

 

Anakin laughed, his chest tight with joy and the threat of happy tears. “Yeah, what’s with you telling Owen that he was taller than me?”

 

“I thought it was true at the time.” Shmi tilted her face to rest her chin on his sternum so she could smile up at him. “You are even more beautiful. You are becoming more of yourself and your self is incredible…”

 

Anakin tightened his hold on her and kissed her forehead. “You shouldn't say stuff like that. You’ll make me cry in front of everyone.”

 

“Good.”

 

* * *

 

 

Padmé watched as Anakin regaled his family with stories of his adventures with Ben Kenobi and the other Jedi. He seemed so happy, so full of life and joy. Here, in this tiny home in the desert, there were no expectations for him to be restrained, peaceful, serene and in balance. Padmé could admit that she wasn't sure of all the details of how Jedi were expected to master themselves, but…

 

Anakin seemed more balanced and at peace here, allowed to be passionate about life and love, than he had been back on Coruscant when trying to hold himself back.

 

“Being a Jedi sounds awesome,” Owen said. “The most exciting thing around here was that skirmish with the sandpeople last month and the new listrium power converter I got for the hoverbike I'm restoring.”

 

Anakin’s eyes lit up. “You’re restoring a hoverbike? Can you show me?”

 

Both of them were halfway out of their chairs before Shmi cleared her throat. “Are you two thinking of leaving your dishes on the table?”

 

“No, Shmi,” Owen said, his demeanor contrite. Anakin and Owen made quick work of the dishes, both talking over each other about engines and mechanical things that went over Padmé’s head before they rushed out the door together.

 

“He’s happy here,” Padmé whispered to herself, but when she turned back to Shmi, there was a look in the former slave’s eyes that made Padmé shiver.

 

“I’m still of the opinion that no good will come of him associating with the Jedi, but it's what he wants to do.” Shmi frowned down at the table until her husband reached over and took her hand in both of his.

 

“Anakin has a good head on his shoulders,” Cliegg said quietly. “I can tell you did well with him, Shmi.”

 

Shmi smiled gratefully at him. Padmé was surprised at the look of genuine affection exchanged between the two of them, Shmi's young face smiling adoringly at Cliegg despite his grey hair and lined features.

  
As if listening to her thoughts, Shmi grinned mischievously at her. “Cliegg is wonderful,” she said. “He doesn't let the age difference bother him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Luke stepped down from the _Millennium Falcon,_ rubbing at his shoulders and stretching. “It’s nice to be back on solid ground,” he said, groaning as the pressure in his joints eased.
> 
> “To bad it's here,” Leia said quietly, her eyes narrowed as she scanned the crowd of the spaceport. “I was rather hoping never to see Tatooine again.”
> 
> The area smelled of Bantha and rancid engine oil. Hutt gang members conspired in corners with Jawas and seedy-looking smugglers. In one corner, Leia noticed a woman standing, a calm air gathered around her. She wore plain clothing with a sense of dignity that many great leaders could only aspire to.
> 
> And she was watching as Leia, Luke, Chewbacca, Lando, and the droids disembarked.
> 
>  
> 
> _Luke. We might have company._
> 
>  
> 
> The woman smiled, and Leia got the feeling that she had heard the warning. Then the woman began to walk towards them, and the illusion that she was at all human melted away. She looked like a force of nature approaching them with a gentle expression.
> 
> “It’s wonderful,” said the woman, her voice piercing through Leia's heart. “Finally meeting you in person.”
> 
> Leia glanced back at Luke, who looked rather alarmed, but still was staring at the stranger with a longing that hurt.
> 
> “You are here for the captain, yes?” the woman continued. “Captured and frozen and held by the Hutts.” She clicked her tongue. “At least it's just Jabba. He’s a pushover. You could rescue your captain without killing anything, if you take the time to make that effort. I have a small house in town, and you are all welcome to stay as long as you’d like.” She smiled at Lando and Chewbacca.
> 
> “Sorry,” Leia said confusion whirling in her mind “Did I miss something? Who are you?”
> 
> The sisters answered first, a flurry of images, grains of sand tossed against Leia's mind. Child in a cage, in a prison, underground. Child with hands to reach out and rend walls and bindings and holdings. Child stepping forward, out of the shackles and shadows into the light of a new dawn.
> 
>  
> 
> _Walking Forth Child_
> 
>  
> 
> “My name is Shmi,” she said, then leaned forward, her voice lowering. “But I would not object to being called 'grandmother’.”


	8. Between Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and Padmé decide to screw the rules. And maybe each other, at the same time.
> 
> Chapter warning: loss of a limb (it's star wars; you knew it was gonna happen)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Look, Hux,” Ren swallowed. “I’m probably the biggest idiot the galaxy has ever seen. You deserve better than what little I can offer you.”
> 
> Hux scowled. “I think I should be allowed to make that judgement for myself.”

Anakin took Padmé up to the top of the bluff to watch the suns set. The whole sky was washed pale in pink and purple and blues. Padmé looked up from where she sat on the flat stone, at the first star of the evening winking down at them.

 

“Hello, star,” she said with a joking wave.

 

Anakin stood, reaching his arms out as if yearning to embrace the star. “Welcome,” he said, almost too soft for Padmé to hear. “We’re happy to see you.”

 

Padmé giggled a little. “You’re such a child, Anakin.”

 

He lowered his arms and looked down at her. The last of the sunlight gleamed gold in his hair and on his skin. His eyes matched the color of the evening sky. He didn't say anything, but suddenly Padmé wasn't so sure.

 

She coughed a little, hoping he wouldn't notice the blush she felt on her face. “The sunset is beautiful,” she said.

 

He knelt next to her, his back to the fading light so he could face her. “I love you, Padmé.”

 

Her heart thudded in her chest, and she felt her mouth go dry. “Anakin… that isn't -”

 

“It's alright,” he said, cutting off the words she wasn't sure would have come out right anyway. “I love a lot of people. I guess…” He shrugged. “I thought you should know. That I admire you and care for you. A lot. I love Ben, too. And other people I've met. I… get attached easily, I guess. I care a lot. I try not to, but-”

 

“Anakin,” she cut him off. “Please don't apologize to me for how much you care.”

 

His eyes went wide, and he seemed to pull away, just enough to regather his thoughts. “I just wanted you to know,” he said quietly. “You don't have to do or be anything else.”

 

Padmé leaned forward a little to rest her elbows on her knees. “Why did you want to tell me?”

 

He leaned forward as well. “Sorry.” His eyes were downcast. “I’ve… been picking up the edges of your feelings and thoughts. Ben says I need to work on my shields, but I heard… I felt…” He looked into her eyes, his mouth nervous and his face so close to hers. “You should never have to wonder if there is someone who loves you.”

 

Padmé closed the distance between them, their lips meeting softly in the starlight. He was so warm, his eyelashes so long they tickled her cheeks. It was far too easy to give in.

 

* * *

 

 

“We can't do this, Anakin,” Padmé whispered later.

 

“Why not?”

 

She thought of the name she wore in her skin.

 

“We aren't soulmates.”

 

“But we still love each other. We enjoy each other's company.” Anakin went quiet for a moment. “Is it… because I'm different?”

 

“No, Anakin. Don't think that.” She smiled up at him. “Honestly. Your gender doesn't matter to me at all. You’re perfect the way you are. It’s just… you are a Jedi.”

 

His arms tightened around her just a fraction. “And Jedi aren't supposed to have attachments.” His voice was dark with an anger that chilled Padmé. “But I… I'm already attached. I couldn't help it, Padmé. I…”

 

She could already tell where he was going. “You are not a failure. Not at being a Jedi, not at anything else. Anakin… I just…” She thought over her feelings. “I just don't want you to get hurt.”

 

“How could you hurt me?”

 

This time it was her that tightened their embrace. “The ones we love the most can also hurt us the most. Think, Anakin, about what you're asking. Could you really live like that? Would you risk everything you and I both have? Could you live that lie?”

 

Anakin took three slow breaths, in and out, before he answered. “No,” he said quietly. “It would destroy us both.”

 

She pulled away from him, tucking her hair back behind her ears. “Good.” But his words didn't feel good, sitting on her chest and in her stomach.

 

* * *

 

 

Anakin rolled to his feet, spitting blood from his mouth. Dooku stood over Obi-Wan, his lightsaber raised to strike. With a snarl of rage, Anakin threw himself between them, his own saber raised to block the blow.

 

Dooku stepped back, courtly and elegant even in the midst of battle. “Brave boy,” he said with a sneer. “But, oh, so foolish. I would have thought you'd learned your lesson.”

 

Anakin grinned. “Guess I'm just a slow learner.”

 

He charged, pressing his momentary advantage against the older man. Aggressive and feeling himself alight with righteous fury, Anakin struck again and again, seeking out the Count’s defensive shortcomings.

 

But Dooku repelled him easily. He smiled coldly. “You have unusual powers, young padawan. But not enough to save you this time.”

 

Anakin felt his blood run hot, felt the sisters sing in his veins. “Don’t bet on that!” he cried, and threw himself into battle once again.

 

“Anakin!” he heard Ben cry. “Anakin, no!”

 

But Ben was too far away, and Anakin was far too powerful to be afraid. For the first time…

 

The greatest shock was the initial lack of pain. Anakin felt his body falter, his nervous system reacting without bothering to tell his brain what was wrong, though he could see for himself, staring down at where his arm suddenly was  _ not. _

 

And  _ then _ it hurt enough for him to pass out.

 

* * *

 

 

Padmé watched with her heart in her throat as Anakin’s eyes fluttered open. The Healing Rooms were calm and quiet, meant to be soothing for those who had been wounded, but when had Anakin ever been easily calm and soothed?

 

He smiled a little. “I can be quiet sometimes.”

 

Padmé clasped his hand, his left hand, a little tighter. “Were you reading my mind just now?”

 

“Yeah. Sorry.” He breathed in, and his brow furrowed a little. “Count Dooku-”

 

“Got away,” Padmé snipped the words out. “I still can hardly believe he was a Sith all this time.”

 

“Not the whole time, I think,” Anakin murmured.

 

“What makes you say that?”

 

“Didn’t he say?”

 

“I… can’t remember…”

 

“Where… where’s Ben?”

 

Padmé bit her lip. “He came out of all this in far better shape than you, you big idiot. What’s that in your hair?”

 

“What?”

 

“It looks black.”

 

His face went a little more pale. “It’s a birthmark.”

 

“I’ve never noticed it before.”

 

“Guess you weren’t looking. My hand itches.”

 

Padmé let go of his hand.

 

“No. The other one.”

 

“Oh.” She watched as he lifted the new metallic addition to his body. He stared at it for a minute, and she wished that she was the one who could read minds. “Prosthetics really are quite advanced, you know. The medic was telling Ben and I that with some of the new neuro-adapters they could make it so you wouldn’t even notice the difference, once your nervous system adjusted.”

 

The silvery fingers moved a little, straightening and then curling in turn. Anakin’s face drifted away from a frown to something more tremulous and fragile.

 

“Ani,” Padmé said softly, taking his other hand. “I thought about what you said, and… well, I think you were right.”

 

His eyes turned to her, wide with surprise. “Wait… right about what?”

 

“There’s no way to know if you’ll ever find your soulmate, right? Why should we wait and deny ourselves happiness for something that might never happen. Anakin… I love you.” She smiled. “Will you marry me?”

 

* * *

  
  


They were married on Naboo, next to the lake. They both cried. No one who was there minded at all. The sisters watched through Anakin’s eyes, delighted in his delight. Shmi watched as well, her heart overflowing with love for the both of them, her face tilted towards the stars.

 

The sex, in Anakin’s opinion, was very very very good. He made sure the sisters weren’t watching for that part.

 

Padmé fell asleep curled up in his arms. Her face was full of light and happiness, even as she pressed back against him, soft and gentle. Anakin thought to himself that breaking the Jedi oaths was absolutely worth this sweet comfort.

 

He brushed her hair back from her face and froze. Just in front of his nose, behind her right ear, was a name in her skin.

 

Ben.

  
“Oh,” whispered Anakin. “Shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leia moved carefully through the katas with the stave, her mind as focused as she could manage with sweat dripping down her back and in her eyes, sand sticking to her exposed skin. Even in the early morning it was hot, the suns bright, reflecting off the white landscape around them.
> 
> "Enough for now, Leia. Come inside."
> 
> She didn't even look over at Ben. "Just one more."
> 
> "There will be time enough later, young one. I have something to give you."
> 
> At that, Leia turned to face her teacher. "A present?" She brushed her hair back from where it was sticking to her forehead.
> 
> "You'll just have to see, won't you."
> 
> She cleaned up as she had been taught and stepped into the tiny hovel. The old Jedi lived simply. He said that material possessions were largely unnecessary. Leia wondered if the suns got to him, sometimes. He never accepted invitations to come eat meals with Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru, either.
> 
> "In the chest," he said, gesturing to a small wooden chest along the wall, the lid hinged and for the first time that Leia could recall, unlocked.
> 
> Eager, she knelt next to it and eased the lid open. Nestled inside grey cloth was a cylinder of metal. She looked up at Ben, her eyes wide. "A lightsaber?" she whispered reverently. "For me?"
> 
> "It was your father's," Ben said softly. "He... would have wanted you to have it."
> 
> Hesitant, Leia ran her fingertips along it, feeling the cool surface before she lifted it from its resting place. She looked up. Ben was giving her that look again. The sad one, like he had failed her, somehow. But he quickly tried to smile. "You look so much like him," he said, as if he hadn't meant to say it out loud.
> 
> "I want to be as good a Jedi as him," she said firmly, tilting her chin up.
> 
> "A lofty goal, young one, but a goal I think you can reach. He'd have been proud of you." Ben tried to smile again. "Anakin Skywalker was the best Jedi I ever knew."


	9. Between Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's official. Anakin Skywalker is a walking disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Look how old you’ve become.” The Knight almost sounded genuinely surprised, or sorrowful.
> 
> “Something far worse has happened to you.” Lor San Tekka spoke evenly, his voice strong.
> 
> “I think that you and I may have differing definitions of the word ‘worse’. You know what I’ve come for.”
> 
> He did. But also... “I know where you come from, who you were before you called yourself ‘Kylo Ren’.”
> 
> “Do you? That’s rather impressive. I’ve heard that human memory has a tendency to deteriorate in old age. You deserve congratulations.” Kylo Ren clapped his hands together several times. Loudly. Lor San grit his teeth. “Three cheers for your memory.”
> 
> “You cannot deny the truth forever.”
> 
> “You are so right.” Kylo admitted. He leaned closer, lowered his voice. “Listen, old friend, I really don’t want to kill you. You have always been a good man, living up to the spirit of what the Jedi could have been at their best, rather than adhering to the strict letter of their rigid code. Tell me what I want to know.”
> 
> Lor San raised his chin in defiance. “I will die first.” He had never been so certain of anything in his life.
> 
> The silence stretched out between them. “You will.”

Lor San Tekka ran a nervous hand through his hair.

 

“You can calm down,” said the Togruta Padawan girl standing next to him. “My master isn’t actually very scary.”

 

“That’s easy for you to say,” he said, trying to take deep breaths. “You don’t have to give him terrible news.”

 

“ _I_ could, you know,” she offered with a sly grin. “If you’re really too scared. I can pass on the message. Surely you’ve got other stuff you’re supposed to be doing. Actually,” she tipped her head back as if she were deep in thought. “I don’t know that for sure. What exactly is it that your church does?”

 

“I’m not even sure how I got roped into this,” Lor San groaned despairingly. “I was just walking across the courtyard, and…”

 

The Padawan leaned towards him. “And?”

 

Lor San slumped a little. “And Senator Amidala ambushed me. Said she ‘didn’t have time to wait around for that impossible sand-brained idiot’. So she asked me to give him the official message from the Senate.”

 

“Woah,” grinned the Padawan girl. “She called him a sand-brained idiot? Awesome!”

 

Lor San nodded and sighed. “So now I have to give this horrible message to the famous General Skywalker. I’ve never even met him before. I’ve heard he’s tall.”

 

“I can point him out for you,” said the girl. “My name’s Ahsoka Tano. What’s yours?”

 

“I’m Acolyte Lor San Tekka.”

 

“Acolyte is a nice name.”

 

Lor San couldn’t tell if she was being serious or not.

 

“There he is!”

 

The Padawan began bouncing up and down on her toes. “Over here!” She waved at a tall person, clad in black, with gold hair that framed his handsome face. He smiled, and Lor San could see why so many people liked to gossip about him.

 

“Snips! What’s all this about?”

 

“General S-Skywalker,” stammered Lor San. “It’s an honor to meet you.” His mind suddenly forgot whether or not he was supposed to bow to a Jedi... while he was mid-bow. Face reddening, Lor San plowed on, hoping that one day meditation and communing with the Force would one day rid him of this terrible tendency towards stuttering movements and words. “Sir, I have an official message from the Senate for you, sir.”

 

The Jedi stared at him for a second. “Wait. Who are you?”

 

“This is Aco-”

 

“I’m Lor San Tekka!” He hadn’t meant to shout it, but social situations had never been his strength and this day had just been one social calamity after another.

 

General Skywalker had a strange smile on his face, like he could see more of Lor San than was normal. “Wonderful!” he exclaimed with a gleam in his eyes. “With a name like that, and such surety of your name, your destiny must be great, indeed. What is this message from the Senate?”

 

Hands shaking, Lor San handed the small datapad he’d been clutching over to the Jedi. He saw his own sweaty fingerprints on it, but General Skywalker didn’t seem to notice. Padawan Ahsoka was bouncing a little again, but much more subdued.

 

General Skywalker scanned over the message, his face growing first perplexed, and then twisting into something that at first Lor San couldn’t place. Mostly because he didn’t expect to see the expression on a Jedi.

 

General Skywalker was trying really really hard not to laugh. 

 

“What’s it say?” asked the Padawan.

  
“By order of-” General Skywalker broke off coughing in a very suspicious manner. He cleared his throat and started again, his face a bit more neutral. “By order of the Republic Senate, General Anakin Skywalker of the Jedi Order is to be suspended from active military duty, effective immediately, for at least one week. A committee has determined…” The General put his hand over his mouth for a moment, as if to physically hold back laughter. “Has determined it necessary, due to damages sustained directly attributable to General Skywalker, to classify General Skywalker and his actions as ‘Disastrous’ under the V-Sacon Act of Coruscanti 3790. Such measures are to ensure proper funding for the reconstruction… Ah…” General Skywalker grinned. “See that, Snips? Signed by Chancellor Palpatine himself! It’s official. I’m a walking disaster!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lor San startled as a young woman slipped into the booth across from him, hood and cowl raised to hide her face. Much like his own attempts at remaining hidden.
> 
> “You are Lor San Tekka, yes?” she whispered. So much for remaining hidden.
> 
> “Please,” he whispered back, worried that his voice would carry in the dingy cantina. “I don’t want any trouble.”
> 
> “Few do,” she responded. “I need your help.”
> 
> “Miss,” he said. “I am no one, especially now…”
> 
> “Now that the last Jedi are being hunted down and slaughtered? Along with anyone connected to them?”
> 
> Lor San said nothing aloud.
> 
> “The Force moves in mysterious ways,” murmured the woman. “And from what I have gathered… you can be trusted with a great many things, I think.”
> 
> “I’m no Jedi,” Lor San responded. “I’m not even Force-sensitive.”
> 
> “Be grateful that you are no Jedi.” Her voice was suddenly harsh, but still quiet. “Or you would be dead right now.”
> 
> The way she said it… Lor San wasn’t sure if she meant at the hands of the Empire… or at her hands.
> 
> The woman pulled a small leather bag from her belt, holding it close to her heart for a moment. Lor San glanced around the cantina, but every eye seemed suspiciously turned away.
> 
> “I have… a request,” she breathed.
> 
> “Who are you?”
> 
> Her dark eyes seemed to look through him for a moment. He thought very carefully of brick walls and mountains. He counted the bricks in the walls and the trees on the mountains. She smiled.
> 
> “How wonderful,” she whispered. “You do seem…” Gently, she reached out, took his hand, and placed the leather bag in his palm. Tenderly, as if it were far more precious than all the riches of the galaxy. “I find I must leave this in your care. It once could have been safe with me, but I’m afraid that is no longer the case. It’s… a map.”
> 
> He gazed into her eyes, trying to see through them to her thoughts. “A map?”
> 
> “A piece of a map,” she whispered, her eyelashes trembling. “To… to the first Jedi Temple. The Empire cannot… they _must not ever_ learn of its location…”
> 
> “Miss…”
> 
> “It’s a terrible task I ask of you,” she breathed, staring at the bag, still. “Maybe someday… I’ll be able to come back for it, relieve you of it. I certainly hope so.”
> 
> “Why is it so important?” Lor San asked, his hands starting to shake, his calm slipping away in the desperation of her words. “The Jedi are-”
> 
> “I don’t give a wampa’s ass about the Jedi,” she spat through her teeth. “They’re gone. Perhaps forever. And good riddance. But this…” She ran her fingers over the knotted strings securing the bag. “This is…” She looked up at him, her eyes cutting him open. “You won’t understand. You are mortal, but… In the first Temple is…” She shivered. “Instructions.”
> 
> “Instructions?”
> 
> “How how to create weapons the likes of which the galaxy would not survive,” she said. “The Jedi called them ‘Viem’. If the Empire knew these instructions existed they would not stop at any means to retrieve this map, do you understand? It _has_ to remain secret... hidden.”
> 
> “But who are you?” he asked. “How do you know these things?”
> 
> She glanced around the room, though Lor San suspected it was more to avoid his gaze than to search for eavesdroppers. “A name, I suppose, would be the least you can ask of me in return for this.” She folded her arms in front of her. “In the future, should I have to send someone to retrieve this thing in my place, it would be good if there was a name. Yes. In that case.”
> 
> Her eyes connected with his, and he felt his blood thrum. “Skywalker,” she said.
> 
> He blinked. “Wait… as in General Skywalker?”
> 
> She shrugged. “Sure. General Skywalker. That sounds good.”
> 
> “Wait-”
> 
> But she was gone, and the sounds of the cantina filled his ears again. Solemnly, he tucked the back into his shirt pocket. As frightening and strange as all that had been, he felt himself smiling. It felt kind of nice, having a purpose.


	10. Between Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some are crossed and others are double-crossed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kylo Ren threw himself into the chair across from Phasma. She moved her cup of caf out of the way before he thudded his helmeted head down onto the hard surface and heaved a deep sigh.
> 
> “Dramatic,” she observed.
> 
> “Captain,” Ren said, his voice tight and strained. “I have a problem.”
> 
> She sipped at her caf. “Is your problem the fact that you are sexually attracted to red-headed control freaks?”
> 
> “... _Yes_.” For a moment, Phasma was a bit surprised at the deep, genuine pain and sorrow in that one small word. “You noticed? How did you notice? I was being so careful...”
> 
> Phasma exhibited excellent self control and did not pull a face at the top of the black helmet sitting on the table in front of her. “Sir,” she said firmly. “A significant number of the officers and even some technicians have a betting pool on how long it will take General Hux to notice your… attempts at flirting.”
> 
> With an overly dramatic gasp, Ren threw himself upright and halfway up from the table. “He can’t notice! Wait...betting pool?”
> 
> “It’s proven quite good for morale.”
> 
> “I see.”
> 
> “Your courtship is the primary source of entertainment on the Finalizer.”
> 
> “Courtship!?”

Chancellor Palpatine gestured for Anakin to join him at the window. Side by side, they looked out over the city spires.

 

“Anakin,” Palpatine said slowly. “This afternoon the Senate is going to call on me to take direct control of the Jedi Council.”

 

Anakin frowned. Politics, to be quite honest, often went over his head. Sure, there was all the immediate surface stuff, but the nuances of decisions often rippled too far for him to really grasp and made his head hurt when he tried to think about them all. So he started at the beginning and asked for clarification.

 

“The Jedi will no longer report to the Senate?”

 

Palpatine gave him a flat, unimpressed look. That was always a fun result of asking extremely simplistic questions. People then told him exactly what they wanted him to think. “They will report to me, personally,” the Chancellor explained in small words. “The Senate is too unfocused to conduct a war. This will bring a quick end to things.”

 

Along with raising a hell of a lot of other problems, Anakin thought. “I agree,” he said. It _would_ bring a quick end to _things_ , one way or another. “But the Jedi Council may not see it that way.”

 

Palpatine nodded seriously and turned back to the window. “There are times when we all must endure adjustments to the constitution in the name of security.”

 

See, there was another political thing that made Anakin’s head hurt. “With all due respect, sir,” being very little, perhaps. “The Council is in no mood for more constitutional amendments.”

 

The Chancellor gave a serene smile. “Thank you, my friend, but in this case I have no choice. This war must be won.”

 

“There’s _always_ a choice,” Anakin said harshly, perhaps more harshly than he intended. “Youhave many choices. _I_ have many choices…”

 

“Anakin,” Palpatine cut him off. “I’ve known you since you were very young. I have tried to advise you over the years, when I could… I am… very proud of your accomplishments.”

 

_Why? What part have you had in them? They are mine…_

 

“You have won many battles the Jedi thought lost, and you saved my life. I hope you trust me, Anakin.”

 

_Not as far as I could throw you. Actually, nevermind. I bet I could throw you pretty far…_

 

Palpatine was staring at him. “Of course,” Anakin said, hoping it came out mostly sincere.

 

“I need your help.”

 

Anakin stared “With what?”

 

“I fear the Jedi. They are shrouded in secrecy and they remain obsessed with maintaining their autonomy… Ideals I find simply incomprehensible in a democracy.”

 

“Well,” Anakin frowned. “Technically, they aren’t really part of the government, right? I mean, weren’t the Jedi just asked to help with the war? They’re more of a monastic order than a branch of the legislature or anything like that. So, aren’t they more like independent contractors? I mean, the Senate has given them power, but the Jedi don’t really need it, and the Senate could just revoke it whenever they want, right? So…”

 

“Anakin…” Palpatine took a deep breath. “I’m depending on you. To be the eyes, the ears… the voice of the Republic.”

 

“I… don’t get it. Sir.”

 

“Anakin, I’m appointing you to be my personal representative on the Jedi Council.”

 

“I get to be on the Council?” Anakin thought about it for two seconds. “That sounds like a terrible idea.”

 

“I can’t help but… think of you as being like my own child, Anakin. The son I never had.”

 

Weird.

 

* * *

 

 

Anakin stood before the Jedi Council, taking deep breaths and keeping himself calm, peaceful, and all that other stuff he was supposed to do.

 

“Anakin Skywalker,” said Master Windu. “We have approved your appointment to the Council as the Chancellor's personal representative.”

 

Anakin held back a grin, keeping himself to a dignified nod and slight bow. “I will do my best to uphold the principles of the Jedi Order.”

 

Yoda leaned forward. “Allow this appointment lightly, the Council does not. Disturbing is this move by Chancellor Palpatine.”

 

Anakin nodded. “Yep.” He flinched. “I mean… yes. I understand.”

 

If Mace Windu were not a Jedi Master, Anakin got the feeling he would have rolled his eyes and gently smacked him on the head. “You are on this Council, but we do not grant you the rank of Master. “

 

Anakin felt the ball of tension in his chest ease. “Oh, thank the Force.” All of the Masters stared at him. He cleared his throat in embarrassment. “Pardon my outburst.”

 

Yoda smiled a bit. “Feel unready, you do.”

 

Anakin shrugged. “Of course I’m not ready to be a Master. I shouldn’t even be on the Council! I mean, sure, I’m strong with the Force, but holy hells I can barely even meditate for longer than ten minutes at a time or keep a straight face during djarik games! Not that I’ve been playing much djarik, lately…”

 

Master Windu leaned his head into his hand, his elbow propped up on his armrest. “I thought that being a Jedi Master on the Council was what you wanted?”

 

Anakin shrugged. “Yeah? When I’m ready for it, though. This is ridiculous, and the Chancellor knows it.” A thought clicked into place in his head.

 

And Yoda noticed. “What is it, Skywalker?”

 

“It’s just…” Anakin shrugged again, wishing briefly that Ben was there. “Wait, did that thought leak out or were you just watching my face? I’ve been working really hard on those mental shields…”

 

“Watching your face, I was,” Yoda smiled again, before his demeanor grew serious again. “What is it you suspect?”

 

Anakin took a deep breath. “I think… there may be a chance that Chancellor Palpatine is Sith.”

 

Around the room, all of the masters sat back in shock. All but Yoda. “Ah,” he said quietly. “A possibility we must confront, this is. Much it would explain.” He tipped his head at Anakin, his large eyes focused. “Find out for certain, you must.”

 

“Me?” Anakin heard his voice raised higher in pitch. “Are you kidding? I’d make the worst spy ever!”

 

“A strong mind you have,” Yoda said gently. “Improved, your shields are. And Palpatine’s ear you already have.”

 

Anakin crossed his arms inside his sleeves and hoped he didn’t look too unsure of things.

 

“Well, if you think it’s for the best…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poe Dameron straightened his new jacket and knocked sharply on the door.
> 
> “Come in.”
> 
> He walked on in and sat himself in one of the chairs to one side of the desk with his best smile in place. “You wanted to see me, General?”
> 
> General Skywalker looked up, brushing strands of midnight-dark hair back from her face. She gave him a critical sort of examination. “Did you get a haircut?”
> 
> “Ah, no, ma’am.” She always managed to say exactly the thing to throw him off. “The jacket’s new.”
> 
> “Ah,” she said lightly. “I knew something was different.” She frowned down at her datapad. “Captain,” she said, her voice lowering just a little bit. “I find you to be surprisingly trustworthy.”
> 
> Poe fidgeted a little. “Thank you, ma’am.”
> 
> “What I am about to share with you must be kept in the strictest confidence. If word of this gets out, I will not hesitate to kill you, as much as it would pain me to do so.”
> 
> Poe laughed a little nervously, in spite of himself. “General, you have a cutting way with words.”
> 
> She gave him another one of those looks. “When you are as old as I am, Captain, you find that getting to the point is easier than not.”
> 
> “Surely you can’t be _that_ old, General.”
> 
> But when he said that, her eyes did that thing where they looked very old and full of pain, despite her oddly ageless face. “Here,” she said, and slid the datapad across her desk to him. “Tell me what you make of this message.”
> 
> Poe frowned and scanned over the bare line of words.
> 
>  
> 
> Older Fellow seeks nice young Ladies.  
> Sisters are a !bonus!;)  
> Likes walking solo on beaches and exploring old places  
> (older than my mom++++:P
> 
>  
> 
> “Huh,” he said, feeling a bit repulsed. “That is… a particularly tasteless personal ad.”
> 
> General Skywalker sighed. “Yes,” she admitted. “Sometimes I really wish this informant would actually bother to use a real code, rather than these… embarrassments.”
> 
> Poe let out a groan. “Really? One of your spies sent that message?”
> 
> “Yes,” she said. “Though not one that I hear from often, and never something like this. Usually he just sends bare outlines of First Order troop movements. And beneath that… charming cover, his message is quite alarming. The First Order is trying to find the first Jedi Temple.”
> 
> “Jedi Temple?”
> 
> She nodded. “He chose a round-about way of saying it, but there’s only one possible thing his word choices could mean. ‘Older Fellow’ means First Order, as well as being a reference to their Supreme Leader. ‘Older than my mom’ is this particular informant’s _charming_ way of saying ‘older than about 4,000 years ago’. The word ‘sisters’ worries me... and ‘bonus’? Does he mean that Snoke is looking for the sisters, but they aren’t his main goal?”
> 
> The General seemed to be talking to herself, but Poe leaned forward a little, his eyes scanning over the message again. “What does this part mean? ‘Likes walking solo on beaches’?”
> 
> Poe looked up. The General’s face had gone pale, her eyes shimmery with tears that refused to fall. She slowly met his gaze.
> 
> “That’s...” she paused, closed her eyes for a moment. “The most terrifying part of the message. I’m not completely sure, but… it sounds like he’s found Ben.”


	11. Between Wishes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and Obi-Wan don't see things in quite the same way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mitaka, the strange, nervous man that he was, still managed to surprise Hux when he walked up to Ren on the command bridge and flat-out asked him, “Why do you wear that mask all the time? Were you burned by acid, or something like that?”
> 
> Ren, confusingly enough, responded with flat, barking laughter. “Oh no, it’s just that it’s terribly comfortable. I think everyone will be wearing one in the future.”

“You’ve been given a great honor, Anakin. To be on the Council at your age… It’s never happened before.”

 

Anakin tried really hard not to pull a face at Ben as they walked. “I swear…”

 

“Often.”

 

“I didn’t ask to be put on the Council,” Anakin finished, his face burning with embarrassment. “Ben…”

 

“Sorry,” laughed Obi-Wan, his eyes sparkling with laughter. “I couldn’t help myself. Weren’t you telling me just the other day that you wanted to be on the Council someday?”

 

“Yes! Someday!” Anakin sighed. “When I’m ready! When I’ve got things figured out and I’m… put together and have things under control. Like you.”

 

Obi-Wan gave him a sidelong, appraising look. “Very rarely are we  _ ready _ for what the Force sends our way, Anakin. We can only do our best, and let the Force guide us. Things will work out for the best.”

 

“You really think so?”

 

The Jedi Master shrugged a little. “Eventually.” He paused, his eyes sharp as they seemed to pierce through Anakin. “You shouldn’t look at me like that.”

 

Anakin blinked. “Like what?”

 

Obi-Wan glanced around the empty hallway of the temple, as if he were afraid of being overheard. In the sleeves of his robes, it looked as though he were clenching and unclenching his fists. “Like I’m the most important person in your life. You shouldn’t build yourself around me, Anakin. I’m quite fallible.”

 

Anakin stepped closer. “You say things like that. ‘I’m human. I make mistakes. I’m fallible.’ But I have yet to see it.”

 

As if startled, Obi-Wan’s eyes went wide. Anakin kept forgetting how amazing his teacher’s eyes were. When they caught the light like that, they burned silver.

 

Footsteps echoed down the corridor towards them, a smooth even beat that pulled Obi-Wan away. Anakin hadn’t even noticed how close they were standing until they were apart. “Forgive me for keeping you, Anakin,” he said calmly as he stepped back. “We’ll talk later, yes?”

 

“O-of course, Master Kenobi. Wha-”

  
“I’ll see you soon,” Obi-Wan said as he turned and walked away in the opposite direction from where he had been originally heading. Anakin watched him go, a fond, if somewhat confused, smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leia leaned on the wooden railing, gazing out into the night. The forest-moon of Endor was so strange to her. It was warm in the night, in a way that got into her lungs. The trees seemed like guardians, standing silent watch in the still quiet. She could barely see any stars. A slightly forlorn sigh escaped her.
> 
> The wood platform creaked behind her. “Hey, what’s going on?”
> 
> Leia wiped at her eyes as though she’d been crying. Which was silly. She hadn’t been. And if she had been there was no reason for her to hide it from Han. “Nothing,” she said. “I… just want to be alone for a little while.”
> 
> “Nothing?” Han stepped closer. She could feel him, his energy and life burning bright in her mind. “Come on, you can tell me. What’s going on?”
> 
> “I… it’s complicated,” she sighed, finally turning to look up at him. “And… I don’t know if I can tell you.”
> 
> “But you can tell Luke?” Anger flickered at the edge of his voice. Frustration with himself and her and the whole situation they were in.
> 
> “I… ah…”
> 
> He made a disgusted sound and turned away from her. Leia felt so small and distant from everything, and Han’s dismissal hurt more than she thought it should.
> 
> But then he ran a hand through his hair and turned back to her, concern on his face. “I’m sorry,” he said.
> 
> Leia nodded and rushed to him, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his shirt. He smelled like engine oil and sweat, and now like the forest around them.
> 
> He embraced her and pressed a kiss to her hair. “I’m glad you forgive so easily.”
> 
> She tensed. That was… too near the opposite of what Luke had been saying, just before he took off into the woods. “Han?” she whispered.
> 
> Her hugged her closer. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
> 
> Leia made a noise in her throat. She’d meant it to sound like agreement, but it came out awfully close to a whimper. “Do you think…” she said slowly. “That there are things that can’t be forgiven? Or people who… have done such terrible crimes that they don’t deserve forgiveness?”
> 
> He laughed a little. “If there’s such a thing as an unforgivable sin, I’ve probably committed it.”
> 
> They both were silent for a while, listening to the night-sounds of the forest, the whispering of leaves.
> 
> “I’m afraid,” breathed Leia.
> 
> “That’s probably healthy,” Han said softly. “We could all die tomorrow, after all.”
> 
> But she was more afraid for Luke. She hadn’t been able to stop him from leaving.
> 
>  _I’m going to bring our father home,_ he’d said. As if such a thing were possible.


	12. Between Futures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and Padmé long for a bright future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Do you… ever regret choices you've made?”
> 
> Ren didn't move for a moment, his head hanging low between his shoulders, seemingly staring down at his hands. He drew in a breath, stunning Hux with the weight in that minute action.
> 
> “Regret…” Ren said, the mask darkening his words. “I...regret… many things, Hux.”

“I’m worried about Ben,” Anakin admitted as he sat next to Padmé. “The Council has sent him to fight Grievous all on his own.”

 

“He’s strong, though,” Padmé said with steel in her voice, the same as there always was when Anakin talked about his teacher. “I’m sure he’ll come back safe and sound and we’ll both feel like fools for having worried so much.”

 

Anakin smiled at her. “So you  _ are _ worried about him.”

 

She sniffed. “I never said I wasn’t.”

 

The image flashed in her head again. The dream she often had. Anakin usually tried to ignore it, but this time he let it wash over him. Her hand in his, the sand soft below her feet, the sun gentle and low over the hills as her children giggled and splashed in the water.

 

“You want children,” Anakin said softly, running his thumb over her knuckles.

 

Padmé gave him a withering look from over her datapad. He liked sitting next to her while she worked. It let him watch her as she was focused on something she was passionate about.  Tonight, though, she was having a hard time concentrating. That was probably at least partly his fault. “I thought you were trying to stay out of my head?”

 

“You’re broadcasting,” he said. “And avoiding the question.”

 

“You didn’t ask a question.”

 

“Oh. Do you want children?”

 

“Anakin, do I really need to list all the reasons I will not have biological children of my own?”

 

“But you want them.”

 

Her mouth pulled down a little at the corners. “Fine. Yes, Anakin. I think that in a perfect world I would have loved to be a mother.” She smiled a little, her eyes sad. “Can you imagine them? Maybe a little boy and girl. They’d be so smart. I could teach them kindnesses that no one else thinks possible. They’d always get into trouble, just a little too smart for their own good… I could… build a better galaxy for them.”

 

She settled herself further in her seat. “As it is, I'll build a better galaxy for other children. I can do that much.”

 

“Let's do it,” Anakin whispered, a bright spark burning in his mind as the idea dug its roots into his heart. “Let's have a child.”

 

Padmé didn't say anything, only gave him a flat stare which then pointedly shifted to his lap.

 

“I’m not  _ that _ stupid,” Anakin protested, his face turning a bit red. “We can't have them in a traditional way, but the geneticists of Kamino can do amazing things…”

 

For a moment, Padmé's eyes lit up with joy, but the spark faded again. “But if the Jedi Council found out…”

 

“I’d be expelled from the order,” Anakin finished. “I know. And it doesn't matter to me. I always knew that I couldn't stay a Jedi forever. There are too many other things I have to do and be.”

 

She studied him, as if seeing something in his face she had never noticed before. “You really mean that,” she said softly. “I thought you wanted to be a Jedi more than anything.”

 

“I want to help people, Padmé. I want to bring safety to those who live in fear. I figured that I could do that as a Jedi, but…” He felt a sad smile cross his face. “I won’t let them hold me back forever. There’s so much more I can do than sit on Councils and smile for politicians.”

 

“But…”

 

“Padmé,” Anakin said quietly, looking in her eyes, his heart beating wildly. “Your happiness is more important to me than being a Jedi. I love you.”

 

She stared at him, her lips parted as she searched his face. “I…” She blinked a few times. “You’ve not said if you want children. This isn’t just for me. It can’t be. We’d be in this together.”

 

Honestly, Anakin hadn’t ever thought about having children. The idea simply hadn’t entered his head. But now that it had… He closed his eyes. Let himself imagine it. A little life, eyes fluttering as he rocked her to sleep in his arms. A trusting gaze as his small arms found their way around Anakin’s neck. Watching them grow, their faces bright with sunlight and joy.  _ Force. _ He wanted it. He wanted it more than he’d known he could want anything.

 

Anakin opened his eyes and wiped at the tears on his face. “Oh,” he whispered. “I didn’t know… how much I wanted this. Padmé…”

 

She embraced him, and he showed her the images in his head of their beautiful children. Her felt her tears on his neck when she buried her face there.

  
“Ani,” she whispered. “You’ll be a wonderful father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leia dipped her toes in the cold stream, the sun warm on her skin. It was gentle here, and beautiful, Water babbled over moss-covered rocks on its way down the mountainside to the grand city of glass in the valley below. Snow-capped peaks stood guard over the city while starships drifted overhead.
> 
> She heard footsteps behind her, and tightness settled around her heart. Only one person ever made her feel so strange, so confused.
> 
> "This place is beautiful," he said, his voice low and melodic. He always tried to be as gentle as possible around her. Like she was fragile. "That's not why," he responded to her thoughts.
> 
> "I don't care," she lied. "What are you doing here?"
> 
> "You're dreaming," he answered. "What is this place you dream of?"
> 
> Leia wrapped her arms around herself. "This is Alderaan," she answered. "I never got to see it in real-life, but Luke often showed me..."
> 
> "Oh."
> 
> She grimaced. She hated how vulnerable he was. She hated how the smallest things could affect him. She hated how deeply he cared about _everything_. "What do you want, Anakin?"
> 
> He laughed a little. "You're the only person who calls me that, anymore."
> 
> "Well, I'm not about to call you anything else, so don't hold your breath."
> 
> "I won't," he said, fondness evident in his voice. "What is it you want of me, Leia? Why did you call me into your dream?"
> 
> She looked down into the stream, watched the water fragment the sunlight into pieces. "I don't know."
> 
> He took a step closer. "But you do know, Leia."
> 
> Her heart seemed to skip a beat. She took a deep breath and pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. "I wanted to apologize."
> 
> That seemed to throw him off-balance, if his silence behind her was anything to go by.
> 
> "I... wanted nothing to do with you," Leia said quietly, her eyes stinging. "So when you tried to warn me about Ben, I only felt anger. All I saw and heard was _you_ trying to tell me how to raise _my_ child." A bitter laugh escaped her. "Maybe if I'd listened to you, I wouldn't have lost him." She shuddered. "How much of a dream is this? Are you really here?"
> 
> She felt him step closer, close enough to reach out and touch. She heard the rustle of robes as he knelt behind her. "Leia," he said, his voice soft. "You have nothing to apologize for." He murmured a few words, the last few lines of a lullaby she remembered Shmi singing. " _Forever and always, my baby you'll be._ "
> 
> Leia turned, yearning to throw her arms around him and pull him close, but there was no one there. Only the empty stones of the first Jedi Temple and the rushing of ocean waves below.


	13. Between Walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin considers how monumentally embarrassing it would be to ask one's mother how to make children.
> 
> Sorry I haven't been posting as fast as I'd like. I've come down with some kind of gross virus but hopefully I'll be back to churning out a chapter every other day soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Honestly, Ren," Hux sniped at his rival from across the shuttle. "At this point I would be _shocked_ if you actually have a functional dick."
> 
> Ren made a snorting sound behind his mask. "Of course I don't."
> 
> Hux's next insult died on its way to his mouth. He stared at the Knight for a moment, his mouth hanging open slightly. "Excuse me, what?"
> 
> Ren leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "I said 'of course I don't'. All I've got is a bunch of tentacles hanging there. Why _else_ would I wear _robes_ all the time?"
> 
> Hux wasn't sure, but Ren sounded like he was _grinning._

Anakin paced. For a moment, he thought of reaching out to Shmi for guidance. But then he realized that he would never live down the shame of having to ask his mother how to make children. He then took a moment to wonder if he would ever be better at thinking things through before jumping into them headfirst.

 

_“Here,” said Padmé._

 

_“What's this?”_

 

_“To collect a sample of your genes,” she said with a grin. “Don't worry. Just rub it inside your cheek. It’s easy.”_

 

 _Anakin panicked for a moment. He should have thought this through better. Like many of his decisions in life. There were definitely parts of his genetics he did_ not _want scientists poking around in. “Actually,” he said. “Can I take yours and go to Kamino myself? I… want to make sure this is done right.”_

 

_He felt his face flush, but Padmé smiled in understanding. “Of course,” she said. “I have that vote on the military budget coming up soon, and I need to get ready. I trust you with this, Ani.”_

 

Anakin took a deep breath, forced himself to stop pacing around the sparse quarters he kept in the Jedi Temple, and sat cross-legged on the floor.

 

“I can do this,” he whispered to reassure himself. “I can do this.”

 

Mentally, he pulled up those old biology texts he’d read long ago, the memory returning to him bright and fresh, and far more accurate than most sentients’. He could smell the sun-baked dust as he curled on his mother’s faded blanket, his fingertips worn and sensitive from working with small pieces of metal all day. Safety and reassurance wrapped around him, playing the words across his mind.

 

Distantly, as if watching someone else do it, he felt his left hand stretch out over the small genetic samples. His and Padmé’s, collected in little test tubes with printed labels. The Force shivered around him. Life. The creation of life was a very powerful undertaking, the Force sang into his mind. Life creates the Force, and the Force moves through it, binds it together.

 

It was simple, really, once the delicate little pieces clicked into place, enzymes unzipping strands and recombining them to make new patterns of intricate little molecules. Like the stars rolling through their paths, obeying laws and rhythms in their dance, so too did the very small things…

 

A thought pulled Anakin pack to himself, halting the unseen dance for a moment. An image. A boy. Padmé had mentioned that she wanted a boy.

 

Anakin sat back a bit. To be quite honest, he hadn’t ever really wrapped his head around human genders. It was all a little… beyond him. Back on Tatooine he’d announced to his mother that he liked the sound of he and him pronouns and she hadn’t batted an eyelash, only switched over as easily as if she always had used such for him. If one were to get very technical, the Viem were all devoid of sex and gender, being artificial and all. They were made. They did not reproduce. The sisters were sisters because it felt like a good name for them, and for no other reason. Shmi was his mother because that was what she asked to be known as. The two of them, walking children, were simply sisters that had woken up, gained consciousness.

 

What Anakin was attempting, here in his darkened room, on the floor, with no tools but the Force itself, had never been done. Combining Viem genes with a human’s? Anakin groaned and lowered his head into his hands. There really was no way of knowing if this would work, or what these precious new lives would be. Something entirely new.

 

Like a spinning wheel, Anakin’s mind came back to the first thought. And neither Padmé nor Anakin had a Y chromosome, which she had expressed a desire for one of her children to have. Anakin didn’t know _why_ , but it was what Padmé wanted. He grinned at his own anxiety and his own joke.

 

He supposed that children were free to choose their own genders, much as he had. He didn’t really want to _make_ a person be something they didn’t want to be, especially his own child. But Padmé wanted one...

 

He groaned. There was a little bit of a headache starting in his temples.

 

A knock came at the door. “Anakin?”

 

 _Ben!_ He was back? Anakin cleared his throat, which had suddenly gone dry. “Come in.”

 

Obi-Wan, his friend and teacher, stepped into the room. “I thought I’d let you know that I made it back,” the Jedi Master said, seating himself at an angle to his former padawan. “Chemistry?”

 

“Yes,” Anakin said a little breathlessly, his eyes caught on the lovely red flecks in Ben’s hair, barely visible in the quiet light. “I… that is… you mean this.” He looked down at the clear tubes before him. Obi-Wan waited patiently. He knew Anakin well. Knew that Anakin was up to something he probably shouldn’t be. Anakin felt his mental shields waver a bit.

 

His teacher blinked. “Senator Amidala? What have you gotten yourself into this time, Anakin?” Obi-Wan’s voice was fond, if a bit exasperated. It often sounded like that when it came to Anakin.

 

Taking a moment to center himself, Anakin cleared his mind. He made his decision in that moment, a leap of faith.

 

“Master,” he said quietly. Obi-Wan startled a little. Anakin never called him that in private. “Tomorrow I must go before the Council and submit my resignation from the Order.”

 

Stunned, it took Obi-Wan a moment to recover. Anakin caught a flash of his thoughts, even. _How does he always manage to surprise me, even after all this time…_ “Anakin, I’m sure that whatever trouble you’ve gotten yourself into-”

 

“Ben, _please_ listen. It’s not really trouble, but it would be if I tried to stay. I…” He lowered his head a moment, then continued once he could look Ben in the eyes again. “Padmé and I have been married for the last three years.” Obi-Wan drew a startled breath, but Anakin kept going before he could respond. “I love her, Ben. We love each other. Even though… even though I know she doesn’t love me as much as she loves you.”

 

That halted Obi-Wan, his face pale and full of something that on anyone else Anakin would have called fear. “I know,” Anakin whispered. “She’s your other soul. And you are hers. The two of you belong together but you’re both too stubborn to do anything about it.”

 

“Anakin-”

 

“Be quiet, Ben. I’m not done. I know. I know I’m a huge idiot with a massive ego and I’m selfish and greedy and foolish and impulsive and impatient and all the things a good Jedi shouldn’t be. So that’s why I can’t do it any more. I can’t be a Jedi like you and Qui-Gon wanted me to be. I’m sorry…”

 

“Anakin-”

 

“I’m sorry that I’ve failed you, but I’ve made up my mind. I’ll still try to live up to all of your teachings as best I can, but-”

 

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan leaned over a bit to put his hand on Anakin’s, his flesh and blood hand. “Anakin, you haven’t failed me, or anyone else.” He straightened himself, and when he went to pull his hand away Anakin took hold of it, suddenly worried that he would leave. “The Council all said, back then, that you were too old to begin training. You had known so much of life already that it would be difficult to hold yourself to the Order. I… have known no other life than this, but you have. That isn’t failure. It’s just truth.”

 

“There’s more,” Anakin admitted quietly, glancing at his… project. “Padmé and I have decided we want to have children.”

 

At that, Obi-Wan cracked a genuine smile. “Of course you have. I have never known either of you to do anything halfway.”

 

An idea. A horrible, wonderful idea woke up in Anakin’s head. “Ben,” he said quietly. “We would like to have a boy, but… we lack the physical capacity to have one. I suppose that the geneticists on Kamino could find a good enough donor, but… I would rather he be someone Padmé and I both know and love.”

 

Obi-Wan looked flat-out shocked. He gripped Anakin’s hand tighter and ran his other hand through his hair, his pale eyes wide.

 

“Anakin, I… I’m flattered, but I don’t know if that would be appropriate…”

 

“Ben,” Anakin said quietly, earnest and a little afraid. “I’m going to do this, with or without you. I just… wanted it to be you.”

 

Obi-Wan stared at him. He really was a good Jedi, Anakin thought. There was almost nothing but compassion in those grey-blue eyes. Almost.

 

“How,” Obi-Wan said. “How do you do this to me? From anyone else, this would be easy to turn away. In fact, no one else would be crazy enough to ask this…” He lowered his head and tightened his hold on Anakin even more. “I shouldn’t want this, Anakin. Why? Why do you ask this of me? You should have… you should have just taken it as I slept, never asked me, never told me…”

 

“No one ever has a right to any part of your body without your permission,” Anakin whispered.

 

Obi-Wan inhaled, his shoulders unmoving, letting the breath out slowly through his mouth. Anakin watched him move through the simple breathing exercise to center his mind. At last, Obi-Wan raised his head, and Anakin saw something on his face that he had never seen there outside of battlefields.

 

“You are going to be the death of me,” said Obi-Wan, his voice sure and strong. “Alright, Anakin. I’ll do it.”

 

With a smile, Anakin picked up an empty vial and swab, holding it out to Obi-Wan.

 

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said with false lightness in his words. “Not the fun way, then.”

  
Anakin froze, then looked into Obi-Wan’s eyes, silvery-blue meeting dark blue. Both would forever insist that the other moved first, but in truth it didn’t matter. They met halfway, rushing into their mutual oblivion with longing in their throats and mouths. Anakin was breathless with wonder. Obi-Wan was clearly not very experienced with kissing, but his pure want flowed over, and Anakin found himself drowning in it as Obi-Wan pulled them closer together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Padmé sat quietly, watching the sun rise over the distant mountains. The light shimmered, the ground seeming to merge with the sky, the mirage making it look as though there were two suns drifting apart.
> 
> Slowly, carefully, she held out her hand. It had taken a while, and many nights of patience, but finally she was rewarded. The blackbird came to her, landed on her outstretched hand.
> 
>  
> 
> _She didn’t remember having this dream before, but it felt so familiar._
> 
>  
> 
> Slowly, but steadily, she pulled the bird closer to her. It was a very proud creature, for all it was easily startled, and if it felt it was being coddled or treated too gently, it would leave.
> 
> “How are you this morning?” she asked it.
> 
> It ruffled its feathers a bit. “Tired,” it admitted. “He’s heavier than he looks.”
> 
> Padmé hummed in understanding. “You are looking better, though, than last time.”
> 
> The blackbird scoffed, but preened its feathers, nevertheless. A proud creature indeed.
> 
> “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “This is a heavy burden you carry.”
> 
> It pecked at her hair. “I was exaggerating. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
> 
> “But it would be easier…”
> 
> “Don’t be ridiculous.”
> 
> “He was never mine,” she said, more firmly this time. “But I borrowed him anyway, even though I had no claim on him. Even though by all rights he belongs to you, Revan.”
> 
> The blackbird peered up at her, studying her. It really did have incredible eyes. “I can’t tell if you’re joking,” it said. “He doesn’t belong to me, either. How could he be mine?” The bird looked away, out at the sky. “I am _his_ ,” it said softly.


	14. Between Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, you all knew this was coming. This IS during Revenge of the Sith, after all. Vader had to show up sometime. If you think the rating should be higher, let me know.
> 
> Chapter warnings: everything is terrible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "So you're... basically immortal."
> 
> Leia couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Basically. If 'immortal' is the word you want to use. Hand me that v-clamp."
> 
> Poe Dameron looked through her toolkit and handed her the piece. She returned to her task of trying to repair Threepio's arm. It wasn't looking great, and Dameron was looking far too curious.
> 
> Sure enough, he had more to ask. "So... how old _are_ you?"
> 
> She snorted. "You're really asking a lady's age?"
> 
> He shrugged. "I'm not sexist."
> 
> Leia pried a wire loose. "I'm older than you. Old enough to be your mother."
> 
> "Woah, really?"
> 
> She sighed. "Yeah. It'd probably be less weird if I was a couple hundred years older. As it is... watching the people younger than me become older while my family all stays the same is... pretty strange."
> 
> Dameron fell quiet for a couple of minutes. It was nice, just sitting with him, sometimes.
> 
> "If you can heal from anything, do you not have any scars?"
> 
> Leia hesitated, then looked up at him. There was nothing on his face but honest curiosity, no hint of malice. She swallowed. "I... no. I don't really have any scars." She stared down at her hands. "Healing from anything is... not entirely without cost. There's a price to pay. Every injury I heal takes some of my life, and eventually I will die. Even healing something as minor as a scrape takes a little away. So... no, Dameron. I don't have any scars. But... some in my family do. Old injuries that they've held onto, that they didn't let heal too fast, so that they could live longer."
> 
> "Sounds painful."
> 
> Leia tried to shrug like it didn't mean much. "It is."

“I really should go,” Anakin whispered between kisses.

 

“Yes, you should,” Obi-Wan agreed even as he held Anakin close, as though he could not bear to be parted from this, this sweet meeting. They kissed again, and Anakin forgot why exactly it was he had to leave. Instead he busied himself thoroughly investigating how sensitive Obi-Wan’s lips were.

 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Obi-Wan whispered.

 

“I completely agree,” said Anakin, making no move to pull away as his former teacher decided to try exploring Anakin’s neck with his mouth.

 

It was so easy, so easy, the way down. Anakin felt as though he were falling from a breathless height, giddy with the feeling of his stomach trying to invade his lungs. But he knew the fall couldn't hurt him. Ben was there, falling with him. He trusted Ben. Ben could catch him. He always had.

 

And even as they fell into bed, fell asleep still trading adoring kisses, Anakin felt the edges of the walls of his mind begin to fall away.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Obi-Wan rubbed at his face, ran his hands through his hair, scratched at his beard. He looked down at Anakin, curled up next to him, mouth hanging just a little open, completely relaxed and at peace.

 

If only he himself were still asleep. If only the morning hadn’t come. If only this were a horrible dream he could wake up from.

 

The visions that had rushed through his mind as Anakin had let down his defences had left Obi-Wan stunned. Artificial life-forms made by ancient Jedi to generate infinite amounts of the Force? It sounded… so incredibly…

 

He wasn’t sure. And, quite honestly, that frightened him a little. It sounded impossible, but… there were certainly things not kept in the Jedi records, or things that had been destroyed. The start of the Clone Wars had made that obvious. He wasn’t sure what to make of this, of what Anakin really was. Obviously, Anakin had been keeping it secret all these years, burying his true power, concealing what he really was. Why? Why would Anakin lie about this? Obi-Wan hadn’t seen the answer to that, in those visions.

 

Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan told himself to relax, to let go of his fear. Surely, if Anakin meant any harm, there would have been some sign of that before now?

 

 _Like the anger?_ His mind supplied. _Like the seemingly-impulsive actions that got others hurt? Like the endless disaster after disaster that seemed to follow Anakin everywhere he went?_

 

At his side, Anakin stretched out and yawned, slowly blinking himself awake. “Hey,” he smiled. “Did you sleep well, Ben?”

 

Obi-Wan buried everything in his mind, covering, concealing, internalizing. “I slept well, yes.” He smiled, trying not to shake as he leaned down to brush his lips over Anakin’s face. “And you?”

 

Anakin scrunched his nose at Obi-Wan’s beard scratching at his skin. “It was wonderful,” he sighed happily.

 

It seemed as if… Anakin was unaware. He hadn’t realized what Obi-Wan had seen, what had been shown.

 

“Anakin? I… feel I should go meditate.”

 

He smirked. “Because you’ve broken the code?”

 

Obi-Wan let his fingertips trace over Anakin’s features, across his brow, down his nose, over his lips. The young Jedi closed his eyes and smiled just a little, blissful and content with the simple touches. “Why do I get the feeling you’ll be the death of me?” Obi-Wan whispered.

 

Anakin grinned. “Because, my dear master, as much as you like to accuse me of dramatics, you are very theatrical yourself. I’m just trying to keep up.”

 

It hurt to smile, a little. “Anakin?”

 

“Yes?” Those dark blue eyes opened to pin him in place.

 

“I...I just want you to know that even if…” Obi-Wan took a deep breath. What could he possibly say? “Even if… things change after this, or don’t change, or… Whatever happens, Anakin, I don’t regret this.”

 

“Amazing,” Anakin breathed, his eyes soft and gentle.

 

“What is?”

 

A small, quiet pain flickered across Anakin’s brow, the corners of his mouth. “The way you said that. It almost sounded like ‘I love you’.”

 

Anakin’s words cut through Obi-Wan, landing somewhere in the left side of his chest. Careful, he slipped from Anakin's arms and away from the bed. His clothes from yesterday felt a bit stale, but he hadn't exactly planned an alternative. Anakin pouted. “Don't leave…”

 

“It's well past sunrise,” Obi-Wan gently chided. “You should be rising, as well.”

 

His former padawan groaned and buried himself further in the blankets. He was still there when Obi-Wan left.

 

Wandering the halls of the Jedi Temple, Obi-Wan kept his hands folded in his sleeves, his mind racing under his attempt to remain calm. What was he supposed to do? Could he keep this secret? Should he tell the Council? He should probably let Anakin know that he saw the truth, but… what if…

 

“Master Kenobi,” said a warm, solid voice. Obi-Wan looked up to see Mace Windu walking towards him, a look of gentle concern on his face. “You seem troubled, my friend.”

 

Obi-Wan tried again to breathe in calm, but the serenity he craved fluttered out of his grasp. “I fear,” he said, then stopped himself. “I feel as though I… have made a dreadful mistake, Master Windu. One that cannot be erased. All because for a moment I allowed myself…” He shook his head. His breaking the code wasn’t the immediate problem. It was the result. “I’ve come in possession of a secret that I know not what to do with.”

 

“A secret?” Master Windu frowned.

 

“A secret that I don’t know if I can keep. If it is shared, a person could be deeply hurt, possibly beyond repair. If it is not shared, others might…” Obi-Wan halted, his next words giving him the answer, even though he hated it. “Ah,” he said sadly. “I’ve allowed an attachment to blind me. In my mind the choices were equal, because I care more for one person than I do for others. Is that not exactly why the code forbids such attachments? How can I sacrifice the safety of many for the happiness of one?”

 

“Compassion is not a weakness, Obi-Wan,” Mace Windu said softly. “Perhaps… you and I should seek out Master Yoda.”

 

Obi-Wan nodded weakly. “Yes. That… that sounds best.” He took another, steadying breath. “There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge…”

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Anakin reached into his pocket for the twentieth time to pull out the two little vials, one with a green lid and one blue. He smiled softly, cradling them in his hands. It was amazing, how much he already loved these little pieces, these strands of genetic code. He found himself… full of wonder. And hope. He hoped for them, with every fiber of his being. He was terribly excited to watch them grow, to hold them close, feel their heartbeats, watch them run across fields with abandon, take them flying among the stars…

 

Trembling with joy, Anakin bent his head and pressed his lips carefully to each of them. The faint notes of a lullaby drifted through his head, but he couldn’t remember all the words.

 

“Forever and always,” he whispered. “My baby you’ll be. Both of you.”

 

When he reached Padmé’s door, he let himself in with a smile on his face. “Padmé?”

 

The Senator emerged from her bedroom, her hair only half-done. “Ani?” she smiled. “It’s so good to see you!”

 

She rushed over and embraced him, pulling him down for a kiss, too. “Isn’t it strange?” she breathed. “It’s only been two days, but I feel as though I haven’t seen you in years…”

 

“Padmé,” Anakin grinned against her mouth. “I did it.”

 

She pulled back, confusion and happiness both on her face. “Did what?”

 

“Well…” Anakin felt the vials in his pocket and smiled again. “I guess it’s time I told you about my sisters. You see, I’ve actually got a pretty big family…”

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Padmé leaned back in her chair to stare at the ceiling for a minute.

 

“Woah,” was what she finally managed to say.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“No, you’re fine, Anakin, I just need to… think?”

 

“That’s reasonable.”

 

“It's just… a lot to take in.”

 

“Oh, I absolutely agree.” He fiddled with the end of his sleeve. “If you think of any questions, you can ask.”

 

She looked at him, a bemused but wide-eyed smile on her face. “I will, Ani.”

 

He stood and walked the perimeter of the room. “I… understand if… if you aren't actually comfortable with… having children who aren't fully human. They would be… unique.”

 

Padmé stifled a sound that may have been a hysterical giggle. “Ani,” she said quietly. He looked at her, pulled in by her smile. “As long as you are by my side, I can handle _anything_. And I am _so_ excited for this. I… I'm excited for our children.” She rubbed at her eyes and blinked away smiling tears. Slowly she stood, and walked over to wrap her arms around Anakin. “We're really going to do this…”

 

Anakin's comm sounded, startling them both out of the gentle moment. With an exaggerated grimace that made Padmé laugh, Anakin opened the transmission.

 

“Ben?”

 

“Anakin, good. I’m glad you answered. The Jedi Council needs to meet with you.”

 

“What?” Anakin glanced at Padmé. “Is something wrong? Has there been an attack?”

 

“Oh! No! Nothing like that. It isn't an emergency, just… an urgent matter. Best resolved sooner, rather than later.”

 

“Alright, then. I’m at the Naboo Embassy, so I can be there quickly.”

 

“Please don't break too many traffic laws on your way, Anakin.”

 

“I’m an excellent pilot, Ben.”

 

“I am painfully aware of your skill in that area.” Obi-Wan paused. “Are you with the Senator?”

 

Anakin looked at Padmé, who glared at the comm. “Which Senator, Ben? There are many Senators.”

 

He could practically _hear_ Ben’s eye-roll. “Senator Amidala.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I would appreciate it if you could convey my regards.”

 

Padmé smiled like a burtrix-cat. “I can hear you, Ben,” she said.

 

There was another pause. “Oh. Um…” and then the transmission went silent.

 

Anakin grinned at his wife. “Sometimes, my love, I find you a little bit more evil than others would suspect.”

 

She raised her brows. “A small amount of ruthlessness is necessary in politics, Anakin, but I wouldn't call myself _evil._ ”

 

He shook his head at her in mock horror. “The villain never thinks of themselves as the villain.”

 

Standing on her tiptoes, she pulled him down for a sweet kiss. He leaned into it, loving the feel of her small hands on his face.

 

“Here,” he said, pulling the two small vials from his robes and gently pressing them into her palms, carefully wrapping her fingers around them.

 

He heard her breath catch. “Oh… these are…”

 

“Yeah,” he whispered, cradling her hands in his. “Hold on to them until I get back?”

 

She nodded, overcome with a new wave of joyful tears. “Ani, I love them already.” She gave his cheek a last kiss. “I’ll take good care of them. I promise.”

 

Anakin stepped away, reluctantly making his way to the door. “I’ll be back soon.”

 

He left behind the sight of Padmé framed in morning sunshine, two little vials held close to her heart. The image was so wonderful, full of light and hope. He resolved to commit it to memory. Someday, he would tell his children how beautiful their mother looked when she held them for the first time.

  


 

 

 

* * *

 

 

A pressure was building in the air around Anakin, delicate and heavy at the same time, like standing in a field and feeling the lightning about to strike. But… he glanced around. This was just the Jedi Temple. He swallowed against his fear and felt it stick in his throat. Nothing was out of place, and no one around him seemed to feel anything amiss. If something was going to happen, wouldn’t everyone else feel it, too?

 

“Is something wrong?” Mace Windu asked. Instinctively, Anakin reached out with his mind, seeking contact with another. Master Windu was a solid sureness. Just brushing lightly against him Anakin felt only concern and the truth that the Council needed to speak with Anakin about something important. “You look as though you’re going to be ill,” Mace Windu said, his thoughts sending reassurance and peace.

 

“I apologize, Master Windu,” Anakin said. “I… don’t know quite what’s wrong with me.”

 

They reached the tall doors of the Council Room. Anakin had never felt intimidated by them, but at that moment they seemed to tower over him, oppressive and judgmental. Feeling rather like he was on the brink of a great, terrible precipice, Anakin reached out to open the doors himself…

 

And stopped.

 

The abyss gaped before him, a vision of terror and pain. It was waiting for him. Needles pricked at his skin, into his veins. Restraints held him down on a table, bound him tightly, cut him off from the Force. He could hardly breathe, a mask on his face. No, a _muzzle_... over his nose and mouth, controlling his breath, restricting his words. He could hear screams and taste blood…

 

“Skywalker?”

 

Anakin blinked. His skin felt clammy, cold sweat on his face. He turned to stare at Mace Windu.

 

“Master Windu, I-”

 

The Council Room doors swung open. There were only two people inside, not the whole Council. Yoda stood quietly, a look of calm expectancy on his wizened features.

 

Anakin’s eyes met Obi-Wan’s, and he knew.

 

_Obi-Wan knew._

 

_The Jedi knew!_

 

His blood _roared_. It howled through his body and mind. The fear of discovery had been realized. His vision was going to come true: the Jedi would chain him, cage him, sever his connection to the Force and slice him open. _What makes it so special? Keep it’s mouth shut. Animals can’t speak…_

 

Mace Windu was saying something, calm and collected even as the world ended. Anakin put his hand to his saber.

 

Obi-Wan saw everything. “Anakin! Wait-”

 

_Too late, Ben._

 

Anakin drew his saber. Mace Windu was in the way, between Anakin and escape, so that is where he struck first, slashing quickly at Windu’s legs. Force-enhanced reflexes met him, though. Windu’s saber parried the strike, turning the motion back against Anakin. Surging forward, Anakin took a split second to Force the doors closed, blockading Obi-Wan and Yoda inside. It certainly wouldn’t hold for long against the two of them, but if Anakin could just-

 

He barely saw the strike coming. Anakin knew Windu was possibly the best swordsman among the Jedi, but he still wasn’t quite prepared to face this speed and grace. Violet light flickered, flashed at Anakin, and on instinct jerked his head back. Pain seared up his face, and his vision blacked out. For a horrifying second, Anakin though Windu had hit his eye. He flailed, lashing out blindly, and heard a string of curses. He held onto the pain, and taking what he felt was an opportunity, Anakin ran.

 

He ran through the marble halls, everything burning in his mind. Needles still stabbed him, a ghostly hand clamped over his mouth. The vision could still happen. The Jedi could still take him and rip him apart. Nevermind that his mind was ripping _itself_ apart, now, in his panic. He had to _run._ He _had to escape_. He wasn’t the only one in danger, now. If the Jedi hurt him badly enough, if they raked through his mind with steely fingers, they could find the sisters and capture them, too.

 

Most people dodged out of his way, General Skywalker sprinting through the corridors with his lightsaber drawn, his face pale with terror. Not everyone, though.

 

“Skywalker, stop!”

 

He never even registered who it was that he cut down, but he felt their life flicker out on his blade, spurring his fear and rage even higher. The Jedi would kill him for sure, slowly carve out his body to see what made it work.

 

“No! Skywalker!”

 

He was nothing. The Force gathered around him, a shroud of power and horror and blood. He felt it slam into bodies as he ran. The Force obeyed his wrath, his building hatred, tearing into those who dared stand between him and his _freedom._

 

_I will be free._

 

Light burned through the darkness, a blade clashed with his, blue and purple meeting at indigo-white. Mace Windu had caught up and stood _in the way._  Anakin snarled, beyond words. Windu struck at him, but Anakin was _strong._  He was _powerful._  He would _rend_ these mortals who _dared_ try to cage him.

 

Anakin didn’t even use his saber. He ducked under Windu’s guard and grabbed his throat in his bare left hand.

 

“I will _not be a slave,_ ” Anakin hissed, and squeezed. He used more Force than he thought. He’d meant to choke the life from this impertinent _Jedi,_  but in his rage he crushed Windu’s throat instead. Warm blood gushed over his fist, dripped down his arm, over and under his robes.

 

His entire body roiling with sick hatred and disgusted fear, Anakin dropped Windu’s body to the floor. The Temple was silent, the stone heavy as it swallowed everything. Anakin saw no one else as he fled the Jedi’s would-be sanctuary.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

The hard floor bruised Obi-Wan’s knees as he stumbled and fell. The path of devastation Anakin had cut through the Temple sickened him, body and soul. Bodies lay scattered, the scent of charred flesh in the air. Even… _oh, Force_ … Obi-Wan saw a small form, one of the younglings, crumpled lifeless in a corner. Anakin had shown no mercy, even to a child.

 

Yoda stood next to him, wordless with shock and grief, his small wrinkled hand settled on Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

 

“What have I done?” Obi-Wan whispered.

 

“Skywalker’s doing, this is. Not yours.” Yoda bowed his head. “Confront him quietly, I had hoped we could. Swayed I was by my own attachment.” He stood quietly for a moment, as the sounds of mourning rose through the Temple. “Destroy him, we must.”

 

Obi-Wan’s head jerked up, his face anguished. “You… mean to send _me_?”

 

“With as many Knights as we can spare. Powerful, Skywalker is. More lives it will likely take to stop him.”

 

“I…” Obi-Wan’s voice broke. “I can’t kill him. Anakin’s like my brother. I cannot kill him.”

 

“Twisted by the dark side, young Skywalker has become. The boy you trained, gone he is . . . Consumed by his fear and hatred.”

 

Obi-Wan shuddered. “How could I have let this happen?”

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Anakin knew it was probably foolish to return straight to Padmé, but his heart left him no other choice. She was his only tie left to sanity, it seemed. Without her… his future was gone. He could still feel his vision, looming faster and faster before him, approaching him, relentless and brutal. Chains and burning and knives in his skin…

 

He strode into her dark chambers. “Padmé!?” he called out, his voice hoarse and dry. “Padmé!”

 

A shadow walked behind him, and Anakin reacted.

 

“Where is she!?” Anakin roared, grabbing hold of Palpatine with the Force, shaking him like a child’s doll. “WHERE IS SHE!?”

 

“I’m not sure!” Palpatine gasped. “I saw her leaving with a few Jedi! Then I saw you arrive! I wanted to check if everything was alright!”

 

“Nothing is right!” Anakin’s face still hurt, where Windu’s saber had grazed him. He clung to that pain like a lifeline, focused on it. It could dull the pains of his mind and heart, maybe, if he could just hold onto it hard enough. “The Jedi… the Jedi…”

 

“Anakin,” Palpatine said quietly. “You know what I am. I am a Lord of the Sith.”

 

Anakin snarled, his mind still racing, flailing. “Why should I care? I am no Jedi!”

 

“No. You are not.”

 

The icy calm in Palpatine’s voice cut through Anakin’s overwhelming panic. He set the Chancellor down, stared at his own hands, still covered in blood.

 

“Have the Jedi done something, Anakin?”

 

He clenched his hands. “Surely a mighty _Sith_ can figure it out!”

 

“Ah, but can you figure out what is inevitable?”

 

Anakin stared at Palpatine, his fury starting to drain away, leaving only exhaustion and fear in its wake. “They’ve taken Padmé…”

 

“And I can help you get her back safely.” Palpatine stood straighter, his expression controlled, and Anakin felt the edges of dark power around him.

 

“You would help me?”

 

Palpatine nodded. “As Lord Darth Sidious, I know much of the Force and the ways of the Dark Side. The Jedi are all fools and cowards who seek to subdue and destroy that which they refuse to understand.” _Like you._

 

Anakin hesitated. He wasn’t sure why. There was nothing to hold him back from this, no remaining loyalty to an order that wanted… He could still feel the ghostly possibility of their shackles, that dreadful mask that devoured his face and his words…

 

Resolute, Anakin lifted his chin. He would do _anything._  “What must I do?”

 

“Bind yourself to me,” Palpatine said quietly. “Swear your allegiance as my apprentice, and as your master I can grant you the power and knowledge you need to save them from those monstrous Jedi who would dare harm your family.”

 

“I swear it, Chancellor Palpatine.” Anakin bowed his head, tears stinging his eyes.

 

“You may call me old-fashioned, if you wish,” said Palpatine. “But there is wisdom in the old ways. Tradition would say that as long as you are apprenticed to me, it would be appropriate for you to address me as ‘Master’.”

 

“Oh. Right.” Anakin tasted bile in the back of his throat, but he could do this. For Padmé. For their children. “I swear myself to you, Master.”

  
“And in return a powerful Sith you will become. I grant you a new name,” Palpatine said with reverence. “From this time forth, you shall be known as… Darth… Vader.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Names are so strange,” Finn mused out loud, poking at the small campfire with a stick. He would have gotten in trouble for poking the fire if he was still with the First Order. It was a very minor rebellion, but it still felt good. “They don’t _really_ change anything about you, except that they do.”
> 
> Poe smiled over the fire at him. He had an easy smile. “Do you not like your name, Finn?”
> 
> Finn felt his face grow warm. “Oh, no, nothing like that! I like it a lot!”
> 
> Poe grinned. “Oh, good. I mean, we could change it if you wanted, but personally I like my buddy, Finn.”
> 
> A warmth settled in Finn’s chest. He’d never been someone’s ‘buddy’ before.
> 
> Rey hummed thoughtfully, her knees pulled up to her chin and her arms wrapped around them. “I think names are really important. Someone… a long time ago... told me that taking another’s name away is one of the worst things you can do. It… strips them of who they really are, invalidates them. Even just being called the wrong name on accident can hurt. That’s why it’s something usually only done to prisoners and slaves...”


	15. Between Fire and Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Go to the Mustafar system. End this dreadful war. Then... we can bring peace to the galaxy at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “If there is any degree of kindness left to you, General Hux, you will pull that trigger right now.”

Shmi felt her heart break down into smaller and smaller pieces with every beat. She stared up into the early morning, her physical eyes unseeing. Anakin's fear and suffering ricocheted around in her soul, tearing down the walls and pressure release devices she had built for herself. Built to keep her from doing what she was about to do.

 

Coming back to herself, she turned towards Owen, standing with his tools in his hands. His usually cheerful face was tight with worry. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Are you alright?”

 

Shaking her head, Shmi walked past him, into the house. She couldn’t stay here, had to go help Anakin. He needed her. “Anakin is in trouble. I have to go.”

 

“Isn’t he always in trouble?” Owen followed her, held a bag open while she threw a few essentials into it.

 

“Not like this.” Shmi stopped. Had to close her eyes. Take a breath. “It feels like… like he’s been discovered. He’s… he’s so afraid…”

 

“Let me come with you. I can help…”

 

“It’s too dangerous, Owen. I need you to stay. Keep things safe here. Take care of Beru.”

 

Shmi all but fled the house, Owen right behind her, handing her the bag of supplies. No attachments, no affection for things or places to hold her back. She pulled herself up into the speeder and began powering it up. Nothing to hold her here or slow her down, to stay her hand from what was needed. Nothing except...

 

Owen’s face stared up at her, loss in his eyes. “Please come back, Shmi.” _You’re the only mother I've ever known._

 

Shmi froze, her hands on the controls, and stared helplessly down at him. Owen rarely projected his thoughts and feelings, and she didn’t think he’d done it on purpose, this time. She tried to swallow back tears, but some escaped anyway. “Owen…” She leaned down to rest a hand on his cheek. “I’ll come back. I’ll bring Ani back safe and… and everything will be alright.”

 

He nodded, even though he was still afraid. Still mourning his father, now faced with the possible loss of the rest of his family. Shmi marveled at his strength. She pulled him closer to kiss the top of his head. “I’ll be back,” she reassured him. “ _You_ are mine, as well. Never forget that.”

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

_“We must move quickly. The Jedi are relentless.”_

 

_“What must I do… Master?”_

 

_“I will do what I can to find where the Jedi are keeping Padmé. As for you… go to the Mustafar system. My spies have informed me that the last of the Separatists are hiding there. Take them out, and end this dreadful war. Then, Darth Vader, with our power united, we can save your wife and bring peace to the galaxy at last.”_

 

_“Yes, Master.”_

 

“Darth Vader,” he said quietly, testing the name in his own mouth as he landed on the fire world of Mustafar. “Dark Invader. Death Dealer.” It tasted like the name of a god of war.

 

_Then while I wear this name… a god of war I shall be._

 

“Stay with the ship, Artoo.” The droid beeped sadly, and Vader had to turn away. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. And then we’ll go save Padmé.”

 

As R2-D2 rolled back to the starfighter, Vader pulled up his hood and made his way into the complex. Inside his fear, a twisty dark thing had taken root. He felt… eager. Not just to save Padmé, but also to kill the unsuspecting Separatists inside, waiting like a herd to be slaughtered.

 

Never before had he unleashed his full power. Fear had always held him back, Shmi’s teachings and the whispered need to stay hidden. Stay safe. Stay unknown. Don’t let them see what you really are… If Vader could kill everyone here, there would be no one left to reveal his secrets, if he let them show.

 

He wondered how fast he could kill them, if he really tried.

 

Through the doorway, into the main control room he stalked, his robes billowing around him as he gathered his strength and focus.

 

The Viceroy stood from among the collected figures all but huddled in the room. “Welcome, my Lord. We’ve been expecting you.”

 

Vader glanced around the room. With this many sentients and droids here, it would be simpler to keep them in one place. It would only slow him down if he had to hunt them across the complex. He gestured at the main control panel, and all the blast doors closed.

 

A god of war he would be.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Making her way back to her apartments, Threepio at her side, Padmé fought back a scowl. That secretary had been horribly rude. And to a Senator!

 

Chancellor Palpatine was walking the other direction, his movements slow, and as she approached, he lifted his head and smiled at her.

 

“Ah, Senator Amidala!” he exclaimed. “I meant to meet you at your apartments, but you were away.”

 

“Yes,” she snapped. “Summoned by Senator Organa’s secretary. She said he urgently needed to speak with me in person, but when I got there she claimed she didn’t remember sending for me. Senator Organa wasn’t even there!”

 

“How unfortunate,” Palpatine said quietly.

 

“Are you… alright?” Padmé asked. He didn’t look well, more frail than she had ever seen him, his skin greyish under the light, and his eyes slightly bloodshot.

 

“Oh, I’m quite fine,” he insisted, though he seemed to be leaning slightly against the wall for support. “It’s this dreadful situation. I came to find you, my dear, to tell you about the special session of congress I’m calling. There have been some developments with the war that the Senate must be informed of. Soon, hopefully, it will all be resolved.”

 

“I see, Chancellor,” Padmé said quietly. “I… must get going. I will do what I can to be there.”

 

He smiled again. “I certainly hope so, my dear.”

 

She rushed past him, trying to ignore the strange feeling she had. Palpatine had seemed very ill, but also somehow… frightening.

 

Back in her rooms, she hurried to put herself together. A special session of congress was no small matter. She had only been there a few minutes when she heard someone at the door.

 

“Oh! Master Kenobi!” C-3PO greeted the Jedi.

 

Padmé all but ran to Obi-Wan as he entered. “Master Kenobi,” she said as greeting. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

 

His eyes were distant, struggling to meet hers. She felt that pull on her soul that she always felt around him, always fought against. “Has Anakin been back here?” he asked, his voice quiet.

 

She frowned. “No… not since you called him to the Temple.” Obi-Wan nodded, barely. His face was pale, and she thought she saw his hands trembling where they were hidden in his robes. “What’s going on?”

 

His shoulders hunched just a little. “Do you know where he is, now? I was so certain he would come back here…”

 

“Master Kenobi,” she said, firm but quiet. “What happened? Where… why are you trying to find Anakin? He was just with you, wasn’t he?”

 

He flinched. Padmé stared at him, a leaden horror settling in the pit of her stomach. “Ben,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “What did you do?”

 

He took a deep breath, like he was desperately trying to hold on to his Jedi serenity and failing. “I… I informed Master Yoda of Anakin’s true nature.”

 

“His true…” Padmé felt her heart freeze, heavy and so cold it burned. “You… you betrayed him?”

 

“No!” Obi-Wan protested. “I only just found out! I was… confused… I sought guidance.”

 

“You sold him out!”

 

“I didn’t!” The proud, strong Jedi Master seemed to shrink into himself, his shoulders hunching. “I just wanted to do the right thing. I thought that if we could just all talk things over…”

 

“So he ran.”

 

There was a longer pause than Padmé wanted there to be. “Yes.”

 

“And you thought he would come here, but now neither of us knows where he is.”

 

“I… yes.”

 

“He told you that he and I are married.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“He confided in you, his best friend, and you…” Padmé had never wanted to hit someone so badly in her life. Fists were not her usual weapons. Words were. But now she was near speechless with rage. “He was going to resign from the Order…”

 

“Senator.” Obi-Wan looked her in the eyes at last. “When Anakin realized why he had been summoned… he fled the Jedi Temple, and on the way he killed fifteen people. Wounded several more.”

 

Padmé felt like there was ice being poured into her veins. Slowly, she sank onto a couch, her knees unable to keep her up anymore. “You’re lying.”

 

“I wish I were,” he confessed. “This is a nightmare. Master Mace Windu is dead, and two younglings, by Anakin’s hand.”

 

“No…”

 

“Master Yoda has tasked me with finding him.”

 

“You’re going to kill him, aren’t you…” Padmé whispered.

 

Obi-Wan hesitated. “I don’t have a choice.”

 

“There’s always a choice.”

 

Obi-Wan shied away from her words, pulling his hood up and walking away. “I will do what I must.”

 

“What you _must_ ,” Padmé hissed, her arms wrapped around herself. “Go, then, Master Jedi, and thank you. Thank you for making it obvious to me that you really are incapable of love. I’m _glad_ I escaped the fate of loving you.”

 

He paused, standing in her doorway, a hooded figure with no face. Then he left, taking Padmé’s rage with him. She all but collapsed, her hand over her heart, over the pocket that held her children. This couldn’t be happening...

 

“Is there anything I might do, My Lady?”

 

Padmé shook her head. “Not now, Threepio.”

 

“My Lady,” the droid said, quieter. “I wish to be of service in any way that I can. I… I care for Master Anakin, as well.”

 

She paused, looking up at the fussy droid. He stared back, his unmoving face incapable of showing anything, but she’d heard the helplessness in his voice. Anakin had rebuilt him, restored him with his own hands.

 

_“Sometimes I’m afraid. Afraid that I’m not real enough,” Anakin whispered into her hair. She smiled. Ani chose the strangest things things to worry about. And had the strangest need to tell her all his weaknesses._

 

Except it wasn’t really that strange, was it? If Anakin was what he said he was. Who he said he was. An artificial life-form, created to be a tool for others to use, fighting against his destiny. No wonder he liked droids so much.

 

“Let’s go follow him, Threepio,” Padmé said. “Maybe with the two of us, we can stop them from killing each other.”

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

“The war is over!” Nute Gunray wailed, his hands over his head as Darth Vader advanced on him. “Lord Sidious promised us peace! We only want-”

 

“You’re right.” Vader swallowed back his own doubts. “The war _is_ over.” Killing Nute Gunray was easy, so easy, now. It barely hurt at all.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

As soon as Obi-Wan pulled his fighter into space, as soon as he opened himself to the Force, he felt it.

 

Anakin was a black hole. A point in the Force where everything was being pulled in, trapped. There was only darkness. And the waves of Anakin’s power radiating across the galaxy. Doing his best to put the feeling on a map of coordinates, Obi-Wan sent the information to his R4 unit to plot the course through hyperspace.

 

“Red Squadron this is Red Leader. I’m sending everyone the coordinates to our destination.”

 

“Copy that, Red Leader.”

 

“Prepare for the jump to hyperspace.”

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Vader stared out over the fiery landscape, his cloak billowing in a wind that wasn’t physical. The Force. He’d never felt so… deep in it. Wrapped entirely in it’s power, he could feel the weight of it around him, but instead of holding him down it seemed to lift him up. The ground below him trembled with it, every cell of his being was alight with it, generating more and more with every breath of what would be painful air, if he were mortal.

 

The sisters were so loud above him. He tipped his head back, trying to hear what they were saying. So loud, but unclear, hundreds of voices in his head. Is this what they felt all of the time? This incredible power building to beyond the realm of the physical, distorting reality around them?

 

There were tears on his face, but he didn’t let himself really feel them.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Mustafar looked like nothing more than an artist’s idea of what one of the nine hells would look like. Obi-Wan slipped into the atmosphere, mindful of the dozen other Jedi Starfighters with him.

 

Although… a feeling in his heart told him that even a hundred Jedi wouldn’t make much of a difference in this fight.

 

He couldn’t ignore it anymore, the darkness swirling through the Force, concentrated at a single point on the planet below. Earlier he had had to reach out to feel where Anakin was. Now, he couldn’t block it out even if he wanted to. His hands shook as he commanded the other Jedi to land, had Arfour guide them down to the landing pad. If this… if this was Anakin’s true power, how had he ever managed to disguise himself as human?

 

The Jedi Council, even Master Qui-Gon Jinn, had known how unusually strong in the Force Anakin was. There had even been some whispers of old prophecies being fulfilled. But this…

 

Anakin Skywalker was no savior.

 

Obi-Wan stepped down from his ship, his legs already shaking. The scanners said that the gravity of the planet was near-standard, but it didn’t feel like it. Even the air itself seemed heavier here.

 

The moment the last Jedi stepped onto the surface, the doors to the base opened, and darkness walked out. If there had been any doubt in Obi-Wan’s mind, it fled at the sight before him. What was left of Anakin was a monster, the Dark side of the Force draped around him, dragging behind him in a smoke-slime trail of corrosion. The surface of the landing pad warped at Anakin’s approach. His burned, pale face showed nothing, only reflected back the red light of the lava flows all around them.

 

Anakin stopped, his gaze taking in the dozen Jedi standing proud and strong on the landing pad. Obi-Wan wondered how they managed it, staring down this abomination.

 

“I’m a little insulted.” Anakin’s voice was flat, emotionless. But his eyes weren’t. “Did you really think so few would be enough, Kenobi?” Obi-Wan barely had time to draw breath before Anakin smiled at him. It was terrible. It was still the same smile he was so fond of, on the face of a demon. “I don’t think I even need my lightsaber for this.”

 

The Force rippled, _boiled_ out from where Anakin stood. Obi-Wan threw out his hands, tried to form a Force shield, but Anakin was apparently saving him for last. The warriors around him fell, agonizingly slowly, some gasping in silence as they were crushed in an invisible grasp, some simply slumping dead where they stood, their eyes full of blood that spilled down their faces. Two of them died on each others sabers. One died on her own.

 

“Look at them, Ben. Look at how weak they were.” Obi-Wan turned back, stared in horror at the creature before him.

 

“How could you do this?” Obi Wan yelled over the roar of the Force in his head. How could this happen? How could someone he cared for, someone closer to him than anyone… “You were my brother, Anakin! I loved you!”

 

Anakin stared at him, fury burdening the atmosphere around them. “Traitor,” he rasped. “You never loved anyone. I don’t think you’re capable of love.”

 

The monster moved at last, darted forward like shadowy lightning. Obi-Wan only just managed to raise his lightsaber before Anakin struck. Their sabers clashed, pulsed in a white-hot blaze that cast eerie shadows across the ground. Like the surging lava around them, Anakin was a force of nature, unstoppable. The only reason Obi-Wan wasn’t dead yet, he felt, was that Anakin hadn’t yet decided to kill him.

 

He had to use that. Maybe there was still some lingering compassion in Anakin, something that Obi-Wan could hold on to, something to bring him back. Though with each crackling meeting between their sabers, each shivering blow, the distance between them only seemed to grow.

 

“Anakin, please!” Obi-Wan felt his arms shaking from the weight of Anakin’s swings. “Please, put down your weapon! I never meant-”

 

With a wordless roar, Anakin flung out his hand, Force-pushing Obi-Wan off the platform to the ground below.

 

“I am one that walks,” Anakin said, his voice booming inside Obi-Wan’s head as he struggled to rise to his feet. His ribs hurt, and the breath had been knocked completely out of him. A thud next to him, cracks in the earth as Anakin dropped down in pursuit. Anakin’s eyes burned gold where he stood over Obi-Wan. “Like my mother walked for millennia before me. I will not be contained by mere mortal Jedi.”

 

Obi-Wan raised his saber just in time to fend off a flurry of strikes. Fast and heavy, with the weight of entire stars behind each blow. Still, it felt like Anakin was toying with him. With so much power, Obi-Wan should have been little more than a charred smudge on the ground at this point. What was keeping Anakin from just killing him? Why draw this out?

 

“Do you want to know, Ben, my mother’s true name? She is Walking Forth Child.” Anakin drew partially away, as if gathering his will to end the duel. “Because she walked forth out of the darkness of captivity, no longer to be bound by the Jedi. And because… there were three children before her. Three innocent lives that the Jedi ended in agony and fear.”

 

“Stop! Stop fighting!”

 

Anakin looked up, his eyes flickering from gold to blue. Up, over Obi-Wan’s left shoulder, back towards the landing platform he gazed, a small light coming back into his face. “Padmé?”

 

But Obi-Wan didn’t hesitate. He couldn’t. There was far too much asked of him. He didn’t look back at where Padmé must have followed him into hell. And he did as the Jedi Order asked of him.

 

Two strikes. Quick. With the first he severed Anakin’s left arm. With the second, he ran his best friend through.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Darth Vader staggered back, pain and shock rushing over all his senses, leaving him blind. He lost sight of Padmé, of the one thing that still felt right in this descent into the abyss, though he could hear her screaming. And then he was going too far, tumbling down the rocky bluff to the cliff’s edge. He tried to grab at the rock, but only one hand responded. The one he lost before. He pressed his face to the rock. Gasping for an agonizing breath, Vader looked down at his left shoulder, at the smoldering remains of his flesh, already trying to repair itself, to heal.

 

A flake of grey-white ash drifted down, alighted on the back of Vader’s metal hand. A tiny flake of unmelting snow, a shard of silence in a world of fire. More drifted in the air. White snow, settling over everything.

 

Someone was calling out for him. Calling his name… but it was the wrong name… He looked up. Someone stood there, framed in shadow and highlighted in red.

 

“Revan?” he heard himself whisper. “Is that you?”

 

Lines hardened, focused into reality. Obi-Wan Kenobi stood before him, paralyzed with horror, his hand half-outstretched towards his former student. There was a loud crack like thunder. The ground lurched beneath him, dropping him down a few dreadful inches.

 

“Help me!” Anakin screamed. “Please!”

 

But Obi-Wan pulled away, tears streaming down his face. “I can’t…”

  
The cliff collapsed, groaning and lurching beneath its own weight, falling into the fiery pit of lava below, carrying Anakin with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hux shivered, sleepily reached out, but felt only the sheets empty next to him, but still warm. Rubbing at his eyes, he looked up. Kylo was curled up in Hux's chair, pulled over so he could look out the viewport into the vast expanse of the stars. His arms were wrapped around himself tightly, his face pale and full of sorrow as he gazed out into the eternal night of space.
> 
> "Another nightmare?" Hux murmured.
> 
> Kylo shifted a little, but didn't look at Hux. "Yes."
> 
> Hux thought about what most people would normally do in this situation. Comfort, maybe? "Do you... think talking about it will help?"
> 
> The Knight hunched a little smaller. "Not this one, Hux. Go back to sleep."
> 
> Hux was too tired to resist. Kylo probably didn't even have to use any extra encouragement. The last thing he saw before his eyes fluttered closed again was a few tears dripping from Kylo's chin onto his hands.


	16. Between Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What exists between stone and sky?
> 
> I don't know. What?
> 
> The horizon.
> 
> You need to work on your jokes.
> 
> It isn't a joke! Listen... the horizon is between stone and sky, right? But when you get to the horizon, there's nothing really there. Only new horizons. That's because the horizon isn't real. It's an illusion. The truth is... the truth is that the boundary between stone and sky isn't real. They're _always_ together...
> 
> You... really believe that?
> 
> Yes. I really do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I’m sure I could help you better if I knew what you were looking for, my Lord.”
> 
> Solum Ren ground his teeth in frustration. “Doctor, I will know what I seek when I find it.”
> 
> The white-coated scientist didn’t look particularly impressed. Once he had what he came for, Solum Ren would take great pleasure in killing this impertinent man. Snoke’s instructions had been specific. Go to the military research base on Tambrin IV. You will find a weapon there that will turn the tide, will ensure the victory of Order. Of the First Order. Solum Ren clenched his hands. If his master had foreseen it, then it was certain to come to pass.
> 
> But Solum Ren had not anticipated that a secret research facility would be so huge, with multiple departments dedicated to everything from chemical weapons to blaster engineering to biological warfare. It was a small city with a single focus. The science of destruction, on both personal and galactic scales. Impressive, but overwhelming. Solum tuned out the Doctor’s continued rambling as he was led into yet another laboratory. The Force here hummed with inky darkness, and Solum focused on it, let it resolve into something more musical, more structured. Something he could work with.
> 
> “That way,” Solum said, pointing along the lines in the Force. It was rare that he could feel the Force so strongly, anymore. If he could now, then he was close. So close to his goal.
> 
> The Doctor looked where he was pointing. “Ah,” he said. “The bio-engineering department. Excellent.”
> 
> It was the most heavily-guarded part of the facility, it seemed. The Doctor had to punch in several passcodes, do a retinal scan, and sacrifice his first-born to open the three doors leading to a long, white hallway of windows.
> 
> Solum was glad of his mask, in that moment. It would have been difficult to maintain the image of stoic Master of the Knights of Ren if the Doctor had seen him gaping like a backwater idiot. On the other side of every window was a creature, some dozing quietly, some pacing along the walls of their cells. Just in the first few rooms Solum spotted a gundark, a rathtar, and a wampa.
> 
> “All of our subjects are quite special,” the Doctor said with a small smile, waving his hand down the hallway to encompass all his monsters. “All were selected as prime specimens, and all have been… enhanced. They are far more deadly that any creature outside these walls, my Lord Ren. Each one of them is a devastating weapon.”
> 
> “A weapon is something that is wielded,” Solum said, staring at a heavily-muscled juvenile krayt dragon. “How do you control them?”
> 
> “Most of them are controlled by means of an implanted transmitter.” The Doctor gestured to the back of his own head, “Just at the base of the skull. Some of them, however, we have had to find… more delicate methods, as a transmitter would interfere with their abilities.”
> 
> Wandering down the hallway, Solum soon found himself halted in his tracks, his breath stoppered up. Behind a window…
> 
> “Ah, yes,” the Doctor said with a smile. “Subject twelve. Responsible for more deaths among our workers than all of the others put together. If a weapon is what you are looking for, my Lord, there are few things more deadly at this facility.”

“All has happened as you foresaw, Master.”

 

“Yes. With the Viem under our control, the entire galaxy will bend to our rule. Perhaps even beyond.”

 

“What if he resists? I’m not certain the Force-suppressors will be enough to contain him, if what you say is true.”

 

The cloaked figure hesitated, staring down at the unconscious creature strapped to the operating table. “Feel free to use as much pain as necessary to keep him under control, my pupil; just don’t kill him. After all, it’s not his body we need, but his mind.”

 

“Yes, Master.”

 

“Let me know of your progress with him, Darth Sidious.”

 

“As always, Master.”

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Breathing hurt. Thinking hurt. Force… _everything_ hurt. And the conversation he dreamt he heard didn’t make any sense…

 

“Ah, good. You are awake.”

 

He didn’t feel awake. This felt like that vision. The terrible one, where the Jedi captured him and he couldn’t breathe or speak or move… He tried to move. He did. But his limbs were heavy with agony and something was holding him down. Panic started to climb up, crawling up from his stomach into his lungs, telling them to breathe faster, that he _had_ to breathe faster, or he would die. But now even his lungs weren’t obeying him. They continued on in their measured, even, slow pace. He wanted to rip them out with his own hands.

 

Anakin Skywalker opened his eyes and wanted to rip them out, too, but his hands were still so far away. All he could see was blinding, horrible harsh light, all he could hear was his own breathing, in and out, continuing even when he tried to hold it, begged for silence.

 

And all he could smell was burned flesh.

 

A shadow moved, looming at the edge of his vision. The Jedi. Come to mock his pathetic flight for freedom, come to slowly carve him open…

 

“Be still, my apprentice. You will only aggravate your extensive wounds…”

 

That voice… Palpatine? But… that didn’t make any sense. The Jedi wouldn’t let Palpatine into their Temple. Unless he was there to rescue ~~Anakin~~ Darth Vader?

 

A whirring sound grated over his senses, distorted as they were. The table he was strapped onto was tilting forward, easing him upright slowly, the shift in gravity letting him feel the pain of his body in a new direction. His mouth felt so terribly dry, but he couldn’t feel his tongue move. How could his mouth feel dry and numb at once?

 

“You were dreadfully wounded,” said Palpatine, his voice strange and crooning and painful in Vader’s head. “It’s a miracle you survived long enough for us to help you. Or… perhaps not. You’ve been keeping many secrets, my apprentice.”

 

With a jolt, the restraints on the table released, letting Vader collapse bonelessly to the metal floor. The fear was still building, still climbing higher and higher than Vader even knew possible, made only worse by the fact that his body simply wasn’t responding, couldn’t feel the fear, couldn’t seem to feel much of anything other than burning…

 

He felt Palpatine brush along his mind. Instinctively, Vader tried to repel him, tried to strengthen his shields. Opening himself to the flow of the Force… did nothing. This time the fear was a knife, cutting open his veins. The Force was gone? No… there was still a trickle of power, a few scarce drops on his parched lips. Compared to the torrent he was used to, it was all but nonexistent.

 

He tried to speak, between his forced breaths and numb lips, and was surprised any words got out. “What… hap…”

 

“You have been saved,” Palpatine murmured, stepping closer. Vader looked up. The Sith Lord looked sickly, and far older than before, his eyes burning yellow. Vader wondered, for a moment, if perhaps years had passed, if he’d slept away a few decades. “We patched up your lungs, built you a new arm. The pain… yes… you should hold onto the pain, Darth Vader. Pain will strengthen you. Grant you more power.”

 

_Lies._

 

Vader shuddered, trying to stand and barely able to find any balance to do so. The connection, the threads that were slowly weaving themselves through his mind, whispering of Palpatine’s thoughts, resonated with untruth.

 

Another breath, out of his control. Another struggle to form a word through a mouth he couldn’t feel. “Pad...mé?”

 

Palpatine hesitated, and Vader tried to take those few drops of the Force and do _something_ with them. “I’m afraid that… in your anger… She’s dead, my apprentice.”

 

_Lies._

 

Vader finally managed to pull himself to his feet, trying not to sway. Palpatine only watched him, those eyes burning, still, hot coals. Carefully, Vader twisted his frail hold on the Force. He couldn’t seem to get Palpatine out of his head. He took a single, wavering step, heavy and leaden despite his frailty. “What… do… you… “

 

“What do I want? My dear apprentice…” Palpatine smiled. Not his grandfatherly smile he often gave to Anakin and Padmé. “I only want to see you… _stronger.”_

 

_Lies._

 

Anakin stared down at himself, this strange armor he wore. The ground felt so far away. _He’s lying. Palpatine is lying. But… why? What does he really want?_

 

One of the threads in his head pulled, harsh and tearing. It tugged and pried apart, searching, seeking. For what?

 

As entwined as their minds were, Anakin felt the answer, saw Palpatine's plan. The Viem. He wanted to find the Viem.

 

“ _Noooooooo!”_ Anakin roared, desperately reaching with the claws left of his hands, with the claws of his mind. He tried to tear Palpatine from his head, but the Force was still so far away.

 

“What… have you… _done...to me?”_

 

Palpatine took a step forward. “I’ve saved you, of course. You owe me your life.”

 

 _I owe you nothing!_ Anakin wanted to scream, but everything took so much effort, effort he couldn't spare. He had to get out of here. A few staggered, awkward steps were all he managed. The Sith Lord watched with only amusement on his face.

 

“I can see that the rehabilitation will take some time,” he murmured. “Especially with those legs…”

 

Anakin barely had time to wonder what he meant. A sharp _crack_ echoed through the small room, splintering sounds of breaking wood. No. Breaking bone. He fell to the ground once again, screaming. Unable to feel his own screams.

 

“You will help me find them,” breathed Palpatine, Darth Sidious. Anakin wasn’t sure if he was speaking out loud or if the words only resonated on the inside of his skull. He looked down at his legs, or what was suddenly left of them. Splinters of pale bone stuck out, pierced through the armor.

 

“No…” Anakin groaned, but the threads in his head tightened, pulling his thoughts apart, seeking, seeking, seeking… And with only the barest few drops of the Force, he couldn’t push Sidious out, couldn’t even slow down the Sith Lord’s violating search. As careful as Anakin was about his sisters, eventually they would be found.

 

There had to be a way. There _had_ to be something. Some way to keep the sisters safe, keep Shmi safe, keep the entire galaxy away from the crushing power that Sidious would twist the Viem into.

 

For a moment, Anakin thought he heard the fluttering of black wings.

 

_Revan._

 

That was it. Anakin held to his mother’s stories of Revan. Certainly, Darth Revan hadn’t erased his _own_ memories, but if Anakin tried hard enough, couldn’t he wipe from his own mind any recollection of the sisters?

 

He held onto that thought, as well as the thought that he _could_ do anything, _would do anything,_ to keep his family from being twisted in this madman’s hands. If Darth Revan’s memories had been erased to keep the galaxy in balance… Anakin trembled with the smallest, most terrifying sensation of hope. Surely Darth Vader could have his memories erased to save the entire galaxy from enslavement...

 

_Bury yourself. Bury everything. Erase. Forget. Forget anything that ever made you think of love or family or home. Forget Tatooine, and Shmi and Padmé and Ahsoka… even Ben. Forget the children you’ll never meet. Forget everything good. Forget everything you’ve ever loved or cared for._

 

_Forget Anakin. Forget the sisters. Forget… forget Walking Sky Child. None of it is real. It cannot exist. It was all a dream. No. Not even a dream._

 

_I am Darth Vader. That is the only name I have ever worn. I am… Darth Vader. A god of war I shall be..._

 

For a heartbeat, Vader held a name that wasn’t his, would never be his, but that he longed to belong to. A name etched into his soul. But he had to let it go, as well. Nothing could remain.

 

Nothing.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Nothing.

 

Not even the sky.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Solum could do little more than stare. The cell had several amenities, and the walls had been painted a light, warm brown, rather than the harsh white. A bed, a chair, a small table, even a thick grey-ish rug were all carefully arranged inside in a comfortable way that clashed with the harsh industrial light of the rest of the facility. Sprawled indolently on the bed was a young man with bright blue eyes, his chin propped up in one hand as he read over some text on a small holodisplay.
> 
> “He’s a weapon?” Solum inquired. “In what way?” Solum Ren had been called a weapon, before. It wasn’t quite true. This… subject twelve, though, all but radiated deadliness, even at rest. Even reading over… Solum squinted. Military tactics of the Empire during the Rebellion. Interesting.
> 
> “I believe,” began the Doctor. “That the best way to describe him is _fast_. Enhanced reflexes, faster metabolism, unparalleled cognition speed. We’ve been hard-pressed coming up with accurate ways to test his cognition. He keeps breaking our tests. Isn’t much to look at, which just makes him all the more dangerous. He’d make a very dangerous assassin. Or anywhere else you aim him.”
> 
> “And how do you do that, exactly?” Solum pressed. “Aim him, I mean.”
> 
> The Doctor shrugged. “The same way you manipulate any other sentient. He’s been told that he belongs here. He came to us at a young age, you see. An orphan. Nowhere else to go. Or so we’ve told him. Even the fastest computation systems will give you a false answer if fed incorrect data.”
> 
> “Interesting,” Solum mused. Very interesting, in fact. He had the man pull up subject twelve’s file, looked over it with a critical eye. It really was fascinating, what they’d done to the young man. Inhumane, if Solum Ren believed in such things. He glanced up at the top of the file, and his eyes snagged on subject twelve’s civilian name.
> 
> “How do you pronounce this?” Solum breathed, his breath stuck somewhere in his diaphragm. It couldn’t possibly be…
> 
> “I honestly don’t know,” shrugged the Doctor. “At one point he had half of my assistants convinced that half the letters were silent.”
> 
> “ _Revan_ ,” whispered Solum Ren, his heart pounding as he stared at the name.
> 
> “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
> 
> Solum reached out, wrapped his fingers around the man’s throat, casually squeezing, not to choke, but to cut off blood flow to the brain, just enough to make the man see black at the edges of his vision. “Do you have faith, doctor? In anything besides your… tidy sciences?”
> 
> The man said nothing, only grasped weakly at Solum’s arm.
> 
> “I thought not. I won’t bother explaining to you the significance of what you have, here. You wouldn’t understand.” Master Snoke had been right. As he always was. Things were coming together.
> 
> Solum Ren let go of the pathetic scientist, turned away as the man recovered himself. Subject twelve… Revan… hadn’t moved. The window must only show things in one direction.
> 
> “This one,” Solum said with a rare smile that no one saw. “This one will be the true weapon of Order and Justice.”
> 
> The Doctor coughed. “I’ll see that he’s made ready to leave with you then.”
> 
> “No,” snapped Solum Ren. “Arrange for him to... escape. Make him believe he's free under his own power. That this place is no longer where he belongs. I’ll find him, after. Give him... a new place to belong.”
> 
> The Doctor’s face went pale. “Sir… he could kill everyone here…”
> 
> Fire flared in Solum’s hands before he even thought of it. “You _dare_ defy me!?”
> 
> As soon as the fire died back down, though, Solum realized he’d let it out of control, again. The doctor lay in a smoldering, charred heap in the hallway.
> 
> Solum Ren, Master of the Knights of Ren, sighed. “I suppose I have to do everything myself.”


End file.
